


Back To The Start

by Transition44



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Angst, Bullying, Drawing, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mute Stiles, Slow Build, Stiles-centric, Suicidal Thoughts, Therapy, Underage Drinking, selective mutism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-23 07:26:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 33,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2539379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Transition44/pseuds/Transition44
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an unknown incident, Stiles calls the cops at Lydia's party. The incident has left him at a permanent loss for words, and calling the cops has ostracized him from his friends. Slowly but surely, he finds himself growing closer to Derek, will Derek give him the strength to speak up about what happened? Eventual Sterek. (Based off the book "Speak")</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_I fumbled into Lydia's living room from the side door, pushing my way through a crowd of drunken teens. I looked around for anyone I knew before I saw Scott and Allison in the corner talking. Once I knew I was near someone I knew, I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and made the call._   
_"911, what is your emergency?"_   
_My bottom lip quavered, but I couldn't form words._   
_"Hello?" The operator tried again but I still couldn't make a sound, I noticed Scott's ears perking up and he dashed towards me from the other side of the room._   
_"One moment, we'll track the location of your call and send help."_   
_My phone is snatched from my hands and Scott gapes at me._   
_"Stiles, what the hell did you do?!"_

Today was the first day of second semester junior year, it had been a week since Lydia's new years party.  
AKA, a week since any of my friends had really talked to me.  
I was already regretting going to school as I pulled into the parking lot, but I knew faking sick would just make things worse. Besides, these were my friends; they'd have to forgive me eventually, right?  
I took a deep breath and made my way out of my baby blue jeep, and slowly sauntered into school, the second I walked in, all eyes were on me.

"I mean what else could you expect from the sheriffs kid?"

"What a freak, had to ruin everyone else's night."

"It's his fault Brandon got busted."

The whispers followed me down the hall as I made it to my locker, wishing I were invisible as I entered my combination and grabbed my books for first period.  
Once I had my books I maneuvered through the sea of people, getting shoved a few times.

"Asshole."

"Loser."

Finally I spotted who I was looking for, he was leaning against his locker, and laughing at something Allison said. Thankfully Lydia wasn't near them, she had made it pretty clear via text that she wanted me to stay away from her.  
I cumbersomely stood in front of them, not sure what to say.

"Oh, uh, hey Stiles." Scott awkwardly greeted me while Allison just rolled her eyes at me. Oh, I didn't know Allison was done with me too. I mean, I guess it makes sense that she would take Lydia's side on this.

"I'll see you later Scott." Allison declared pointedly, and left.

"Look, Stiles…what you did was…not cool, man… and I-I mean you can't blame Allison for being mad. It was kind of a dick move, Lydia got in trouble, and that guy she liked was arrested for dealing drugs. I mean I get that you were jealous, but to have a guy arrested because of it?"

My jaw dropped, I wanted to shout at him, tell him that I didn't want Brandon to get arrested. That he's not the reason I called the cops, but all I could muster was a "no-wait-" as I shook my head frantically.

"Look Stiles, just, hang back for a bit, okay? I think they just need some space from you until this all cools over." He awkwardly patted my back and followed in the direction Allison had stormed off to.

I stood there for a moment in shock. I really shouldn't have been shocked, I mean, everyone hates me now. Why would Scott be an exception?  
Well, at lease it's not permanent, maybe space is the right answer.  
Someone shoves my books from my arms, breaking my thoughts; I get down to pick them up when someone kicks one of them to the other side of the hall.  
I had become popular overnight, but not the Lydia Martin type of popular where everyone worships you.  
No I was popular in the sense that everyone knew what I had done.  
And everyone was mad at me for it.  
I was now labeled as the squealer, the boy who "called his daddy" because he couldn't "handle a big kids party".  
To say school was hell would be an understatement, I couldn't go three feet without being shoved into a wall, and spent lunch alone in the library, making sure I sat near the front desk just so I could go an hour without being harassed.  
I knew Lydia was pissed at me, and assumed my other friends would be awkward around me since they wouldn't want to take sides (which they all did by the way, and it was Lydia's), but I hadn't imagined the entire school to be in such an uproar.  
I'm pretty sure half the people picking on me don't even know what I did, just know that they need to bully me to fit in.  
My only hope was that this would blow over eventually, I mean it's high school, sooner or later there will be another scandal and I'll be invisible again. And hopefully I'll have my friends back too.  
I made it back to my jeep (which was unharmed, thank God) and sped home, never wanting to leave the comfort of my bed again.  
When I got home I quickly finished my homework, not much since it was the beginning of the semester, and logged onto facebook, immediately regretting that decision.  
My wall was completely covered in the same taunts I had heard throughout the day.

"selfish asshole

"freak"

"what the fuck is wrong with you?!"

"its your fault Brandons in jail"

"go kill yourself"

The list went on and I didn't even hesitate when I deleted my account, wishing it would be that easy to delete the comments in real life.  
What a great beginning to the New Year.


	2. Chapter 2

_I laughed as Scott practically leapt into the passenger seat of my jeep. From there we drove to Derek's loft to grab Isaac, Allison was already at the party since she helped Lydia set up._

_"Hey Isaac" Scott greeted him, and he smiled sheepishly climbing into the back of the jeep._

_We blared music rolled down all the windows, and even though it was chilly out, the wind felt great. We had to park down the block from Lydia's house since the street was littered with guests cars. Her house was packed._

 

The rest of the week went by about the same as Monday did. I hadn't heard from anyone until Thursday night when I got a text, instead of it being a usual "fuck you" or "bastard" from a random number it was a "pack meeting, tomorrow at 8" from Derek.

I put my phone back down on my desk and contemplated for a bit on whether or not I should go. I decided not to, since it didn't seem to be an emergency, and I wasn't needed that much at the meetings anyway. It would be best to hang back from meetings until my friends (hopefully) forgave me, until then it would just be too awkward.

I finished reading the homework chapter from econ and got ready for bed, just wanting tomorrow to be over so I could have two days without people slamming me into walls. Since they somehow got ahold of my phone number, I would still have to deal with the taunts, but at least those didn't leave bruises.

The texts were as far as it went outside of school, thankfully. Nobody messed with my jeep since the parking lot has security cameras, and nobody dared touch my house. (Perks of being the sheriffs' son.) I pulled on my favorite pajama bottoms (plaid of course), and crawled into bed, hoping yet again, that things would calm down soon.

The next morning a nightmare woke me from my sleep, but it was only twenty minutes from my alarm so I just got up early and got ready for school. When I got there I was heading to my locker, trying to ignore the taunts when I spotted Scott across the hall. It wasn't the first time I had spotted him during the past week, but it was the first time he had been alone. He must have felt me staring because he looked up and saw me, and I gave him a shy smile as a hello, right before someone slammed my head against a locker.

I can't even lie, the fact that Scott didn't do anything to help me, or didn't even check to see if I was okay hurt more than the bloody nose I got from the locker slam.

I went to the bathroom after that to get some paper towels to help with the bleeding, I couldn't go to the nurse or to class, because teachers would ask questions and I didn't want to add to my "squealer" nickname.

The rest of the day went by about the same as the rest of the week, and I had never been so grateful for a weekend before. The second my last class ended I bolted straight to my locker, grabbed my books, and ran to my jeep. I sped straight home, the only place I felt safe.

My dad was home, which was rare nowadays, but I was glad. Even if we didn't talk much, I still appreciated having him home. It made me feel safe for myself and for him. "Hey kiddo." He greeted me as I walked into the living room and I smiled in response, giving him a small wave before grabbing a granola bar from the pantry and trudging up to my room.

Apparently my teachers had hearts, because we had no weekend homework, so I spent my free time curled up in my bed watching Netflix until my dad called me down for dinner.

"I made ravioli." He told me with a smile, and I quickly smiled back because he knew it was my favorite. We ate in silence; the only sound in the room was that of the football game playing in the living room.

"Well, I've got the night shift, so I've got to get going," he told me as he put his dish in the sink, "I'll be home tomorrow morning. Love you."

"Love you too." I replied, and went to the sink to clean our dishes while he headed out the door.

I grabbed a glass of water and headed back to my room when my phone went off. It was a text from Derek, "where are you?"

I checked the time, it was 8:20, so he must've thought I was just running late for the meeting. "Sorry, can't make it" I texted back, and his reply came immediately.

"Why not?" I thought of what to say for a minute, "because the pack hates me?" "because I know Lydia will yell at me for being there?" "because I'm afraid to leave my house"?

I decided it would be just to just not reply, I'm sure Lydia would tell him some dramatic story of betrayal if he asked any of the pack why I wasn't there.

Yeah, Lydia's the one dealing with betrayal right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the reviews! Sorry about the spacing problems, I tried to fix them so hopefully it's easier to read now.


	3. Chapter 3

_As soon as we got inside, Isaac and Scott split from me, both looking for Allison. Oh, that's awkward. I rolled my eyes at them ditching me and wandered around the house a bit before grabbing a drink and sitting in one of the chairs near Lydia's pool and watching the stars._

The weekend was pretty uneventful; I spent most of it curled up in my bed. But aside from a few texts from strangers, I didn't have to deal with people harassing me, which was nice. When Monday morning came I felt sick to my stomach at the prospect of going to school, and strongly contemplated ditching, not wanting the weekend to end. But I still went, driving under the speed limit and taking the longer route to school just so I could avoid it for a few more minutes. Thankfully it looked like the weekend had helped people mellow out over the whole party situation, because I didn't get shoved once during the walk to my locker.

Name-calling was a different issue, but name-calling doesn't bruise so I just made a beeline to my first class and prayed the day would go by quickly.

I hadn't heard from any of my friends in the past week, and wondered how long it would take for them to forgive me. The only friend I was really upset with was Scott, because I thought he'd have my back at least a little, being "brothers" and all.

Tuesday didn't go as smoothly as Monday, since I got my face smashed into a sink while I was in the bathroom, but it was still better than what I put up with last week.

However, Wednesday proved to be the day that changed things.

I was making my way from my car to my locker when I saw the last person I'd ever expect standing next to my locker.

"Uh, hey." Isaac greeted me as I put in my combination and I shyly smiled as a greeting.

"So, why weren't you at the pack meeting on Friday?" He asked and I just gave him a pointed look, because we both knew why I wasn't there.

"Okay, dumb question. But we're having another meeting on Friday and Derek wants me to make sure you actually show up this time."

He must've noticed the uncomfortable expression on my face, because he continued, "look, no one will give you a rough time, okay? And you really need to be there, a lot is going on with the Alpha pack that you need to know in order to be safe."

I knew if I didn't go Isaac would be in trouble with Derek, which I would feel bad about, so I mumbled "okay" and he smiled.

"Great, so you'll go?"

I nodded.

"Okay, same as last week, Friday at 8." He told me before giving me a pat on the back and walking off.

I wish I could say that having Isaac talk to me meant that my friends were okay with me again, but that would be a lie. The next time I saw any of the pack members, it was when I was walking from 3rd to 4th period and saw Lydia at her locker. She must've felt me watching her because she glared at me until I walked off. I wasn't sure whether to be happy when Friday rolled around because it meant it was the weekend, or feel upset because it meant I would have to see my friends (ex-friends?) at the meeting.

I decided to show up to the pack meeting a little early so that I wouldn't have to deal with all eyes being on me when I walked in, but I guess I wasn't early enough because I was still the last person to show up.

When I walked into Derek's loft, everyone stared. Except Lydia, she glared.

"What's he doing here?" she sneered.

"I'm guessing he's here for the pack meeting." Isaac replied, voice etched with sarcasm, and I was eternally grateful. It felt kind of weird, having Isaac be the one who stuck up for me, since he and I never got along that well. But then again, he was probably just doing it to look good in front of Derek.

"I'm pretty sure Derek has some beers in his fridge. Are you gonna call the cops and report him for giving alcohol to minors?" Lydia was still furious.

"I-I" It was all I could even muster.

"I- what? I'm pathetic?" Everyone seemed a bit shocked with the malice in Lydia's voice, before Derek slammed a hand down on the table.

"Enough! You guys can deal with your high school drama elsewhere! Right now, we have an alpha pack to deal with!"

Thankfully, that was enough to quiet Lydia down, and the meeting began.

Derek gave us a bunch of new information on the Alpha packs location, and Scott shared some information that Deaton had given him. I could definitely see why Derek wanted to make sure I was here though. A lot was going on with the alpha pack, and since I wasn't really talking to any of my friends I was in the dark about all of it.

All and all it was a pretty normal pack meeting. Except for the part where I didn't say one word the entire time I was there and couldn't wait for the meeting to end.

"Okay, I guess that's it. Scott, don't forget to ask Deaton about the different symbols, and Stiles don't forget to do the research on druids." Derek said at the end of the meeting, wrapping things up.

Even though I couldn't wait to go home, I went to the restroom while everyone else went to their cars. I just really didn't want to deal with whatever Lydia would say to me without Derek there. Which I guess made her "pathetic" statement somewhat true, but whatever.

I waited a few minutes before leaving the bathroom. Derek was still in the living room, but Isaac was gone. He probably left to go hang out with Scott.

"You were awfully quiet tonight." Derek nonchalantly commented as I walked through the living room, and I shrugged in response.

"Proving my point," he mumbled to himself before looking up at me "they'll get over it eventually you know. Just give them time."

I smiled at him, knowing this was about as far as Derek went when it came to comfort, honestly the fact that Derek Hale was trying to comfort me spoke volumes as to how shitty this situation was. I nodded even though I didn't believe a word of it. Scott said everyone needed space, but I had a feeling this "space" would be permanent. I waved goodbye and headed downstairs to my jeep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for the reviews! I'm glad people on AO3 like this story too :)


	4. Chapter 4

_I finished my drink, I'm not sure what it was, but it was strong, and didn't taste half bad, either. I heard fireworks going off in the distance, was it midnight already? I checked my phone, "11:08" it read. I guess Lydia's neighbors like celebrating early. I headed back inside to refill my drink._

I spent most of Saturday researching druids, I even color coated my research with highlighters, which is a true testament to how much free time I have now. I thought I had no life back before Scott was bitten, but at least then I had him as a friend.

Now I have all the threat that comes with the supernatural lifestyle, and no supernatural best friend.

Plus, before I could go in public without being terrified. It wasn't the supernatural that terrified me though, and while I hated the bullying, that's not what kept me indoors 24/7 either.

What happened the night of the party was.

After I read practically every article ever made about druids, picking my favorite, getting the facts, typing out a good 20 pages, printing them, and then color-coding them I decided I should go to bed.

I fell asleep pretty easily since all the reading had tired me out, but then I awoke with a start because I had another nightmare about the party. I couldn't fall back asleep, and spent the rest of the night just staring at my ceiling. It was so bland; I didn't even have a ceiling fan

I finally crawled out of bed around 10 on Sunday morning, deciding I had stared at the ceiling long enough. I went downstairs and plopped on the couch, surfing through the stations for a bit, nothing good was on, but I eventually fell asleep on the couch, which I guess was good considering I had only gotten about 4 hours sleep last night,

"-iles, Stiles!" I slowly blink my eyes open when I felt hands gently shaking me, which immediately jostled me from my sleep.

"Hey kid, I just got off from work, you must've dozed off."

I glanced at the clock in the corner of the living room; it's 5PM, so there goes my Sunday. I give my dad a smile before heading back upstairs to play around on my laptop until my dad calls me back down for dinner.

I'm about to take a bite of my casserole when my dad turns to me, "is everything alright with you?" he asks and I give him a confused look so he elaborates.

"You've just been awfully quiet lately, and Scott hasn't been here in awhile, which is odd."

I feel grateful that I have a dad that knows me so well. Who can go days without seeing me but still know I'm not being me. But I also feel guilty for worrying him, he has enough on his plate without having to deal with this.

I give him a hug, which surprises him, before deciding I've had enough casserole, and go back up to my room.

Since I slept throughout most of the day, it's nearly impossible to fall back asleep. I lie in bed for about 2 hours before calling it quits and logging onto my laptop. I look for something to watch on Netflix but that's a bust so I reread the Econ chapter that was homework, jotting down some notes, and then I draw a tree. I'm not even paying attention when I draw it, but there it is, in the corner of my Econ notes.

It's not just any tree, it's the tree.

I finally fall asleep around 3AM, so I only have until my 6:30 alarm, but it's better than nothing.

When I wake up I hope this weekend had the same effect as last weekend, and gave people a chance to mellow out. I stretch and open my closet, looking for something to wear. I notice the shirt I wore on New Years in a heap on the floor. It's one of my favorite shirts, but I feel no remorse as I chuck it into the garbage.

Weekends truly are a godsend, because once again, the torment on me has decreased from Friday to today.

Hopefully there's enough weekends between now and graduation that I can have at least one day of school without someone glaring or telling me to fuck off.

I bring my research for Derek to school because I know he wanted it ASAP. I was planning to give it to Isaac to bring home, but he's not at school.

I only had one class with him, and when he didn't show up I thought maybe he was just skipping that class, but then I waited at his locker awkwardly trying to ignore the glares I got from strangers, and he never showed up.

And since werewolves don't get sick, he must be ditching.

Teenage werewolf rebellion.

I really just wanted to wait until I saw Derek next to give him the research, and under normal circumstances I would have, but I know that this research is extra important. So the way home I stopped by his loft.

It feels weird, coming here alone, but my life has been nothing but normal lately. And that's saying a lot considering my version of normal was fighting the supernatural my with werewolf friends.

I sigh to myself and timidly knock on the door, and Derek swings it open immediately. He must've heard me coming, I didn't even really need to knock.

I don't even step inside, just hold out the papers and he takes them, confused for a moment until his eyes drift to the pages and a look of realization dawns on him. I turn on my heel to leave, when he grabs onto my arm and I flinch involuntarily, pulling back. The look of confusion is on his face again.

"Uh, hold on, I need your help with something." He tells me.

I'm surprised to say the least, usually Isaac is Derek's go to guy, but Isaacs not home and I'm here so I guess it makes sense.

I wish I could say that Derek needed my help with something badass, like finding some ancient scroll that only humans could read, or he got a phone call from Deaton telling him that I possessed some kick-ass magic abilities and he wanted to train me. Something cool like that.

Instead, Derek needed help learning how to attach a file to an email.

Yeah, I'm not joking, I wish I were.

I followed him into the loft and he sat at the table, opening his laptop, I pulled up a chair near him and sat down too, resting my backpack near my feet.

"So I made and e-mail account today," he began, then paused as if waiting for me to make a sarcastic comment, I said nothing, "and I wanted you to teach me how to attach files to it, I thought it would make research easier."

That was smart, actually. Plus it would make my job easier, and save me money on printer ink.

I simply nodded and pointed to the little paper clip icon, and then to the documents tab.

"So if I find a good article I just download it, then do that?" He asked, incredulous.

I almost wanted to laugh. How was Derek this bad with technology? He was what, 22? 23? He was too young to not understand how to work a laptop. My dad understood technology better than him, and that's just sad.

The old me would have told him that, but I just nodded again.

Derek went back to whatever he was doing on his laptop before I showed up, but I didn't get up yet. It was kind of nice being here, no one was tormenting me, but it also didn't have the loneliness of home, but still had the same feeling of safety.

If anything, the feeling of safety was even stronger since I had an alpha werewolf 3 feet from me.

Without really thinking I reached into by backpack and pulled out my homework and a pencil. It wasn't until I was finished with the first math equation that I had actually realized what I had done. I glanced at Derek, but he didn't say anything, just continued typing away. I knew that if Derek wanted me to leave, he wouldn't hesitate to say something. But since he didn't I took that as his permission to stay. So I continued on my homework while Derek clicked away on his laptop. The room was engulfed in a silence, but it wasn't awkward, it was nice. Calm. Safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for the reviews! I know the chapters are kind of short now, but they do get longer!  
> ALSO: the tree I mentioned isn't the nemeton, just FYI.


	5. Chapter 5

_I scoop up the mystery punch bowl concoction into the ladle, and pour it into my cup. I'm putting the ladle back when I feel eyes on me. I glance up to see a guy looking at me at me. He's tall, tan, and brunette, with striking blue eyes. To put it simply, he's a looker. "Hey, I'm Andy," he greets me with a smile._

The next Monday, a week after I do my homework at Derek's, I have my first panic attack because of what happened. I see it in the hallway when I'm walking to Coach's class, and immediately start panicking. Even when I make it to class, and I'm sitting in my seat, the panic is still bubbling to the top. Coach starts talking about microeconomics but all I hear is a ringing in my ears.

The fear is suffocating, I can't breathe. I start hyperventilating, gasping for air, but I'm not getting any. Tears slowly form in my eyes out of terror and frustration.

"Stilinski?" I hear coach call out, but he feels a million miles away, and my eyes can't focus.

"Stilinski, you okay?" Everyone is staring; I dart from the room and run down the hallway before diving into a janitor's closet. I sink to the floor, wrapping my arms around my legs. No one comes looking for me, or maybe they do, but they don't find me. I know Scott doesn't come looking for me, because he wouldn't found me immediately, werewolf senses at all.

Even as the panic slowly subsides, I still stay hidden in the janitor's closet, hiding until the bell rings. Then I leave, go to coach's class to grab my backpack, and go from there to my jeep.

Econ is my second to last class anyway, so all I'm missing is Spanish class.

Adios amigos.

I want to drive home, but my dad has the evening shift and won't be home until tonight, and I can't handle being home alone right now, which is kind of pathetic considering I'm 16. But I can't help it, I'm afraid.

I drive around town aimlessly for a bit, before I find myself driving to Derek's loft.

"Stiles?" He questions, opening the door before I can even knock.

Maybe my total despair is written on my face, or maybe he can smell my fear, because he lets me into the loft.

"Shouldn't you be in school?" He asks, and I just shrug, avoiding eye contact, and sit at his table before my homework.

He gives me a look that I can't decipher, and goes back to reading the book next to me on the table. It's weird seeing Derek do normal people things. I always imagined his life being 50% push-ups and 50% werewolf business.

We sit in silence for a while, and I finish my homework, but don't feel like leaving quite yet, so I flip to a blank sheet of notebook paper and draw the tree again.

It's a tall, aged, pine tree.

Suddenly the front door to Derek's loft opens and Isaac walks in, which I should have expected, I mean duh he lives here, but then Scott follows him and it's beyond awkward. Seriously, just my luck.

Scott is timid, even though he must've seen my jeep in the parking lot, or hell even smelled me from the elevator. You think that would be enough time to gather the strength to see your former best friend for 2 minutes.

"Hey Stiles, what're you doing here?" Isaac greets nonchalantly.

I wave shyly but don't answer his question.

"He's here to see me." Derek pipes up; he says it as if this is a normal occurrence even though it's anything but.

"Um, hey Stiles." Scott awkwardly greets and I force myself to smile at him.

"About coach's class, um, are you alright?" He asks and I know it's just a formality to ask, if he had really cared he would have looked for me after I bolted from my desk in tears. Oh god, looking back on it now I'm mortified, there goes the sliver of a reputation I had left.

I nod at Scott and he and Isaac trot upstairs to Isaac's room.

"What happened at school?" Derek asks and I wave my hand in a "don't worry about it" gesture.

"Is it the reason you came here?" He asks and I shrug, because I'm honestly not sure. I came here because I wanted to feel safe, and being home alone wouldn't make me feel safe. But I felt afraid because of the panic attack, or well, the reason for the panic attack. So I guess it's why I came here.

"Are you alright?" This time he just repeats Scotts question, but he puts more emphasis on it, like he knows my answer to Scott was total BS.

I don't nod; I don't feel like lying to him when he actually seems to care. I don't shake my head either though, I just look at him and he reads my face.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asks, and I shake my head.

"You don't talk much these days." He tells me, and I want to make a joke about how we've traded places, or how it must be a dream come true for him. I want to tell him that him and my dad are the only people who've noticed I don't really talk anymore. But instead I shrug and continue drawing my tree.

I stay at Derek's for a few hours, until about the time my dad will be getting off work. Even when Scott and Isaac leave, I stay. We don't speak; in fact we hardly acknowledge each other. I sit at the table drawing trees and playing on my phone while Derek finishes his book and makes himself coffee and reads some research papers.

Right around 7, the time I know my dad gets off work today, I collect my papers and put them into my backpack. My hand is on the front door when I turn around and look at him.

"Thanks."

I don't stay long enough to hear his reply.

I get home about 10 minutes before my dad, and spend them in the kitchen, starting on dinner for him; he doesn't even hide his disappointment when he sees the side salad I prepared.

We eat in silence, but it's a silence masked in familiarity.

It kind of reminds me of Derek, which is weird to even think.

The next day, things get a little better for me. It's lunchtime and I'm in the library picking at my sandwich when I hear a chair scoot out from under the table. I look up to see Danny sitting near me.

"Cramming for my algebra quiz next period." He explains, even though we both know that's a lie. Danny's math abilities are practically on par with Lydia's.

I smile at him gratefully, before taking a sip of my water. For the rest of lunch Danny studies material he already knows by heart while I scribble in my notebook. Right before the bell rings he turns to me.

"Hey, if you want, you should sit at my lunch table tomorrow. I mean, unless the library is your calling card or something."

And this is why everybody likes Danny, he's not popular because he's rich or hot, he's popular because he's nice to everyone.

Maybe a few months ago I wouldn't have wanted to sit with someone who's only talking to me out of pity since I had a panic attack in our class yesterday. But I'll take companionship where I'll get it.

I smile again and nod.

At the end of the day when I drive home and see that my dad's car isn't in the driveway, I don't really think about it when I drive to Derek's loft instead.

Ever since I saw it again, my fear of being alone has increased tenfold. And since my friends have decided I don't exist, I don't really have anyone else to turn to.

Maybe that will change once I start sitting with Danny, maybe he and I will slowly become actual friends. Then I wont have to bother Derek anymore, but until then…

I don't even knock, he's already standing by the door with his arms crossed, and for a second I think he's mad at me. But then he just quirks an eyebrow and sighs, leading me into the loft.

I sit at my usual spot at the table and begin on my Econ essay; while Derek heads back upstairs to work on whatever he was doing before I showed up. Probably crunches or weight lifting.

When I'm about half way through my second paragraph, Isaac walks through the front door; he looks confused, but doesn't question my presence before heading to his room.

I finish my essay, before timidly picking up one of the many books Derek has stacked on the table. It's an aged book of mythology, probably from Deaton. I slowly start skimming the words before becoming entranced. I'm about a quarter way through the book before I hear Derek coming back down the stairs and I immediately shut it.

"It's okay, I mean you've already started reading it so why stop now." He tells me and I give him a sheepish expression before re-opening the book, and flipping through the pages until I find the paragraph I had been reading.

I stay until about 9, when I know my dad will be getting off work. Derek doesn't say anything about the fact that I stayed so late, and I don't say anything at all.

I smile at him gratefully and he gives me an unreadable expression before I head to my jeep and drive home

I get home right before my dad and we have a late dinner of leftovers.

The next day goes by about the same as the rest, until lunch rolls around and I find myself in the cafeteria for the first time since the semester started.

Danny waves me over and I can feel the pack staring at me from their table. Danny sits with some other kids from the lacrosse team that I don't know too well, but they don't give me any snide looks so I consider that a win. Danny and I don't have much in common, except for lacrosse, and since it's the off-season, we don't have much to talk about. But that's okay, since I don't really feel like talking anyway. I start absent-mindedly drawing in my notebook, but it's better than the library because I don't feel so alone.

Sitting with Danny also helps with the bullying. See, everyone likes Danny, so when news spreads that I'm friends with Danny; people bother me less, because they don't want to inadvertently be messing with Danny.

High school politics.

It makes me feel kinda sick though, when I think about how much the bullying would've decreased by now if Scott had just stayed by my side this semester, but I try not to dwell on it.

After school I drive to Derek's loft, and I feel a pattern slowly forming.


	6. Chapter 6

_Apparently Andy's a senior at Beacon Hills; he tells me he recognizes me from the lacrosse team. "I don't want to seem too cheesy, but how is someone as cute as you here all alone?" He asks me and I can't hide my blush, "um, I came with my friends, but they kind of ditched me," I tell him, embarrassed. I must seem so lame to him. "That's so rude," he tells me, shaking his head, "if I were them I'd never leave you out of my sight." My blush deepens, and he gently takes my hand. "Can we talk outside?" he asks me, "I can hardly hear myself think with this music." "Sure," I tell him, nodding in agreement, and he brings me down the block so we can sit in the back of his pick up truck._

I jolt from my sleep in hysterics, screaming my head off. My dad bursts into my room, and wraps his arms around me, whispering soothing words, but I begin flailing from his arms. It takes a good few minutes to calm me from my screams, and then I'm just shaking as tears silently fall down my face.

My father sighs and stares at me for a moment, "you know, those screams are the most I've heard from you this past month." He seems worried, but also a bit annoyed that he can't seem to be getting through to me.

"I just really wish you would tell me what's going on with you lately." He finishes, and I can't meet his eyes. He sighs once more before going back to his room.

I pull my covers back over my body, but my efforts to fall back asleep are fruitless and I find myself staring at the clock and literally watching the hours tick by.

When my alarm goes off, I immediately get out of bed, yawning and get ready for school. My days were pretty lonely now, we had been back to school for about a month and I could count the amount of times I had interacted with my (ex) friends on one hand. But at least Danny offered me a lunch table, and the bullying had died down a bit. It had also taken new forms, however. Such as hate notes stuffed into my locker.

School went about the same as usual, and I was sitting at my lunch table drawing in the back of my notebook when I felt someone breathing down my neck and I immediately turned around, eyes wide.

"Sorry," Danny chuckles, scooting into the seat next to me, "mind if I take a look at those drawings you're always working on?" I shrug and slide my notebook over to him and he begins flipping through the pages.

A tree, an angelic woman emerging from a tree, hands trying to reach towards the tree, a tree glowing while surrounded by darkness.

"These are really good, and really….arbor-y." I smile at him as he passes the notebook back.

"Have you ever thought about taking AP? The auditions are next month I think."

I shake my head. I was in AP Lit and AP Stats currently, but those were more generic classes. I always imagined AP art as something for people who wanted to be artists when they grew up.

"Well, you should think about putting a portfolio together, you'd be a shoe in." Danny tells me before taking a bite of his apple and joining Eric and Conner (two of the other lacrosse boys I sat with) in their conversation.

At the end of the day I drive to Derek's loft with some research on ritualistic sacrifices I had promised for him. I guess we were friends now-ish? I mean I spent a lot of time at his loft, but we didn't really interact while we were there. But he also didn't seem to mind my presence, which was a huge step up from when we first met.

He was seated on his couch reading Catcher in the Rye (a recommendation from myself) when I slid the front door open, he told mea few days ago not to bother knocking since he could smell me a mile away.

I handed him my research as I made my way to the table, and he nodded his head in a wordless thank you.

I was just finishing up with my homework when Derek slammed the book shut.

"That was very angsty, makes sense you'd recommend it since you're going through this 'I hate the world phase'" He tells me with an amused smirk, which he immediately drops upon seeing my face. I tried to hide the pained expression, but it's getting harder and harder to keep things bottled in.

"I'm just joking." He tells me, and this if further proof into how Derek and I are maybe sort of friends now, because in the past he wouldn't punch me or some shit.

I just sigh and nod, wishing someone would just get that I'm not just mopey because I have shitty friends. Maybe it would make sense for me to just be normal and tell people what's wrong, but it's so much more complicated than that.

I hate the fact that I'm afraid to speak, I hate what makes me afraid, I hate it.

I close my eyes and breathe deeply a few times before flipping to the back of my notebook.

I the tree, with chains wrapped around it and birds flying from it.

Derek finishes reading over the research I brought him.

"I'm gonna have to go over this with the pack, so I'll host a meeting on Friday." He tells me, and I nod, trying to hide my frustration. Even though it was Monday and I had all week to prepare for it, I really wasn't looking forward to seeing the rest of the pack. Things had gotten a bit better with us. I mean, Lydia didn't glare anymore, and Scott would give me shy smiles in the hallway, and Isaac would even wave, but I think that's because he's gotten so used to seeing me at the loft. We still weren't friends and it was still painful. I hadn't seen them all in the same room since the last pack meeting, and I was hoping that this one would go better than that.

"Want some coffee?" Derek asks, breaking me from my train of thought.

"I have decaf." He adds and I nod gratefully, not mentioning the fact that A) werewolves aren't effected by caffeine, and B) He never had decaf before.

"How do you take it?" Derek asks, stirring some milk into his own cup.

"Black." I mumble, walking to him and grabbing the mug.

We silently sip our coffee and then I go home.

My dad makes it home before me this time, but doesn't question where I was. He probably (hopefully) assumes I was at Scotts.

We eat our dinner in silence and I head upstairs and get ready for bed. The next day is going about as smoothly as every other day, when, in the middle of Econ class, I'm called to go to the guidance counselor.

I feel all eyes on me; Scotts are practically drilling holes in my back, as I grab my backpack and head to the front of the class and then out the door, maneuvering through the halls until I make it to the guidance counselor. I honestly have no clue why I'm being called here, it's not like my grades have dropped or anything.

Ms. Morrell smiles coyly as I take a seat across from her.

"Hello Mr. Stilinski, long time no see."

I nod a hello, and wrack my fingers against the arm of the chair, wondering why I'm here.

As if she can read my mind, Morrell answers, "don't worry, this meeting isn't anything scary," is that her sly way of saying it's not about something supernatural? "You're here because several teachers have voiced concerns. Milczacy, why must you withhold speech?"

The way she asked it sounded like she was reading off a beginner's script in Psychology 101, bonus points for her using my given name. I glared at her before grabbing my backpack and storming from the room. I dashed down the halls before finding solace in the janitor's closet I had my panic attack in earlier. I balled up my hoodie and pressed it against my mouth, muffling my scream. I cry myself dry and head to my jeep. I feel bad for yet again ditching Spanish, but the idea of being in school right now makes me feel sick. This probably isn't going to help my case when it comes to not needing counseling, but whatever.

I drive to Derek's loft as per usual.

"Ditching again?" He greets me, and I roll my eyes.

"You smell really angry," out of context that sentence is pretty funny "and like…saltwater. Have you been crying?" I subconsciously wipe my face, outing my secret.

"What, uh, what happened?" He asks, obviously struggling trying to comfort me.

"I didn't call the cops because I was jealous of Brandon." I blurt out and Derek looks shocked at me actually talking.

"I know." He tells me and I don't question it.

"Something happened at the party that made me call the cops." Once I opened my mouth I couldn't stop talking.

"What happened?" Derek asks and I shake my head.

"They called me to the counselors office." I gasp out, getting off topic.

"What did Morrell say?" And I realize that he thinks this is something supernatural.

"She asked me why I don't talk. Apparently my teachers are concerned."

Derek tilts an eyebrow, "well why don't you talk?" He asks and I start sobbing uncontrollably.

I don't even flinch when he wraps me in his arms.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that in most high schools (or at least when I was in high school…so long ago…way back in ye olden days, aka Class of 2013, you had to take intro art and then on -level before AP, but I wrote it in the story that you just have to be hella good for AP at BHHS, lol) . And for the counseling scene with Morrell, I took the "why must you withheld speech" from Skins. On their website on Effys season 1 profile she talked about how her counselor asked her that. I know most people use Genim as Stiles' first name bc of the file we saw in one episode, but Jeff said on twitter that's not it, (he could've been lying though) so I think of Genim as his middle name. Jeff says Stiles' name is Polish, so I tried looking for Polish names that mean silent, but couldn't find any, so I translated the word silent to Polish, and Stiles' name was born, fun facts: Catcher in the Rye is my favorite book, and I drink my coffee black (though I'm more of a tea person)…ANYWAY, the grand reveal should be next chapter wooo, I hope for those of you who haven't read/seen Speak, it's a good reveal, or somewhat surprising, etc..


	7. Chapter 7

_Even from down the block we hear people chanting from the house and immediately Andy pulls out his phone, we both watch the time change from 11:59 to 12:00, and cheers fill our ears. Andy presses his lips against mine and I'm so caught off guard I don't even begin to kiss back until he's pulling away. "Happy New Years." He tells me and I bite my lip nervously for a second before he starts leaning towards me, and this time I lean in too._

The next day I'm in my room playing on my laptop when my dad calls me downstairs.

"What's this I hear about you running out of the counselors office?" He asks, and I want to tell him that the school shouldn't make me go to the guidance office in the first place, but I stay silent.

"Your teachers tell me you've stopped talking, they're worried."

I want to tell him how my grades are fine, better even, since I have more free time now to study. But instead I just watch the discontent look on his face and I feel so guilty.

"Sorry." I whisper and my dad looks up at me, he looks so torn. Torn between anger, and guilt of his own.

"Stiles, I don't know what's happening to you. But you're just not you anymore. I'm sorry if I haven't been there enough for you, and I'm sorry that this phone call was such a wake up call. But I need you back kiddo."

"It's not your fault." I tell him.

"Then what's going on?"

I've decided I've said enough for today, and just give him a defeated look, and he doesn't hide the dejection from his face.

They didn't call me back to the counselor today, so I was thinking that was that, but since they called my dad I'm a bit afraid that they'll call me back to the office tomorrow.

I know deep down that I should tell someone, that I should talk. But I'm afraid. I tried telling Scott after I called the cops, but that was a bust, and now it's like my lips are welded shut.

But Thursday goes by and I'm not called back, so I'm guessing that's the end of that.

At the end of the day, I drive to Derek's loft, since my dad had yesterday off; I hadn't seen him since Tuesday. I hope things weren't going to be awkward between us. Since I sort of had a tad bit of a breakdown at his loft on Tuesday.

"Hey," he greets me as I walk through the front door and I smile at him. I wish I had werewolf senses right now so I could see what emotions he's feeling.

I finish up my homework pretty quickly since I only had it for Lit, and started drawing in the back of my notebook, which was becoming a hobby of mine.

The front door slides open and Isaac walks in, he doesn't even react to seeing me now since I was over so often. Isaac heads to his room and I continue on my drawings, until the clank of a mug being set next to me startles me from my work. It's a cup of coffee, black. I smile gratefully at Derek, and he pulls up a chair across from me on the table, sipping his own drink.

"So I've been thinking about it. I was kidding when I said the book was angsty like you…but I realized Holden does kind of remind me of you," he begins and I perk an eyebrow, wondering where he's going with this, "well, it's hard to explain. Attitude like, you guys are really different. Holden's average with a pretentious attitude and you're smart and clever but you act like you're nothing." I blush at his try for a complement, "but Holden's alienated and so are you, because your friends are kind of assholes," I wonder if Isaac can hear this upstairs, I wonder if he'll tell Scott, "but you should know you're not alone, I mean you have me if you need to talk." Derek quickly finishes his ramblings.

I'm guessing he wants me to tell him why I called the cops, or how I'm feeling or something. I guess my freak out at his loft the other day made him think or whatever. I give him a shy smile, and rest my hand on his for a second before pulling away.

I'm beyond grateful for Derek, which is so weird. I guess the one tiny slither of good that came from all of this is that I got a friendship with the big, broody alpha, who deep down wasn't always so broody.

I wonder if we would have still become friends if mine hadn't abandoned me, but I don't voice these concerns. I also don't point out how hypocritical he's being, since he never talks about the fire that practically ruined his life.

We sit in silence for a while until it's time for me to go home, and I smile at him, pack my bag, and leave.

I'm really dreading tomorrow since it's the pack meeting, even if things were a little better between me and the pack, I still wasn't ready to face them all at the same time. I get home and start heating up dinner when my dad walks in through the front door. I can tell he's struggling on whether or not to say something, before he decides against it.

I'm so nervous about tomorrow that sleep is nearly impossible.

Usually Fridays go by unbearably slow, but this one flew by, unfortunately. I drive straight to Derek's loft after school even though the meeting wasn't until 9.

When I walk in I wordlessly hand Derek my worn copy of "The Outsiders", deciding Derek needed more of my recommendations.

He examines the book, before shrugging and flipping to the first page, and immersing himself in it.

The Outsiders is a short novel, so he finishes it with about an hour to spare before the rest of the pack shows up. Isaac never came home, so he was probably out with Scott. Sometimes we would get pizza before a pack meeting, and when the entire pack showed up at the same time my suspicions' of this were confirmed.

Scott waved at me when he walked in, which was definite improvement. Isaac nodded in hello, and even Allison acknowledged me with her eyes. Lydia didn't glare; she just pretended I wasn't there at all.

"Okay, let's get started." Derek said as everyone took their seats.

"Scott, what did Deaton tell you?"

All eyes turn to Scott as he fumbles for something in his backpack before pulling out some papers, and handing them to Derek.

"Well, first he said to give that to you. He also told me that Deucalion's motives are to find more alphas, obviously. But apparently they're looking for Alphas with unique skills. Like special alphas."

Everyone looks a bit confused, except for Derek, who nodded, seemingly understanding Scott's ramblings.

"Wait," Scott surprises everyone (including myself) by turning to me, "what did Morrell tell you?"

I'm confused for a moment until I remember Tuesday, and I shake my head a bit, looking at Derek.

"I mean when you didn't say anything after assumed you were waiting until the meeting, so what did she tell you?" He asks again and I'm just gaping.

"Wait, Morrell talked to you, when did this happen?" Allison asks.

I take back all my wishes of having my friends talk to me.

"Tuesday, Stiles was called to her office."

Everyone is staring at me expectantly, except Derek who looks uncomfortable.

I can't speak, I can hardly breathe.

Derek realizes I'm not going to say anything, so he butts in, "Morrell didn't tell Stiles anything."

"Then why was he called to her office?" Scott asks and I have to fight to roll my eyes, thankfully a look of realization dawns on Allison's face and she shoots him a look that says, "Shut up."

"Anyway," Derek continues, trying to draw attention away from me, "did you discover anything else about your newfound talent?" He turns to Lydia as he speaks.

She shrugs, "not really. Deaton gave me a book on banshees, but it doesn't have much information on how to control my abilities."

It's almost foreign to hear her normal voice, and not something laced with hatred. It makes me miss my friends, my old life, my old self, more than usual.

Allison tells the group about a new kind of paralysis arrow her father is working on, and Derek shares the research I gave him, aka the reason we had the meeting in the first place.

The meeting only lasts about an hour, but while everyone is packing up and getting ready to go (even Isaac) I stay where I'm seated since my dad is working late tonight and I plan to stay here until he was home.

"So have you picked out your dress?" Allison asks Lydia as the girls are pulling on their coats.

"Dress for what?" Isaac asks, and I almost make a joke about how he's quite the gossiper, but I don't.

"Prom." Lydia replies with a proud smile as everyone starts heading to the door.

"Wait, that's not until April." Scott, ever so observant.

"Who are you going with?" Isaac asks as he slides the door open.

"He's a senior so you probably don't know him," she says in a superior voice and everyone walks outside, "his name's Andy Evans." She says, right as Isaac closes the door behind them.

I jolt from where I'm seated and dash across the room to Derek's bathroom, before falling to my knees and heaving up the contents of my stomach into the toilet.

_I've never kissed a boy before. I've thought about it, though. It's different than kissing a girl, rougher. I wonder if all boys are like that or if it's just Andy. Andy's seems like an experienced kisser, while my experience starts with a girl at summer camp when I was 12, and ends with Heather, with nothing in-between. But Andy doesn't seem to mind my lack of experience, so I guess I'm not doing that badly. I'm lying on my back and he's positioned on top of me, when he pulls away from my lips and starts trailing kisses down my neck. Suddenly I feel his hands toying with my belt, and I gently take his hand off, and move it back to where it had been resting before, on my chest. His hand shoots down again and he starts fumbling with the belt. I put his hand back on my chest again, thinking he must've been caught up in the moment. But then again he starts toying with the belt. "Andy, that's um, a bit much for me." I awkwardly blurt, but he ignores me, removing the belt. "Andy, I mean it, stop." He starts toying with his own belt, and I press my hands on his chest, trying to push him off. "Andy stop! Get off of me!" He's working the zipper on my pants and I start panicking. "Stop!" I shout, pounding on his chest with both my fists. "Stop! Help! Someo-" I'm cut off when he muffles my yells with his hand, and I start screaming, even though no one can hear it._

_He's pulling down his pants with his free hand, and I try again to push him off, punching every surface of him that I can. He starts tugging at the waist of my jeans and I'm crying. "Please stop, please" I try telling him, but it's still muffled by his hand._

_My pants and boxers are yanked down and he's moving my legs with his free hand and positioning himself and I'm in hysterics, pleading words no one can hear. He rams into me, and it's so abrupt and so unbearably painful. The entire time it's happening I just close my eyes, imagining myself anywhere but here. Finally he finishes, and climbs off of me, but I'm too traumatized to move. I'm shaking. What now, does he kill me and bury my corpse out in the middle of nowhere? But then he just zips his pants and smiles at me, exiting the back of his truck. I close my eyes again and cry silently for a minute, before finally re-opening my eyes._

_The first thing I see is a pine tree._

 


	8. Chapter 8

_I don't even remember walking back to the house. After I saw the pine tree, it's all a blur until I'm dialing 911._

I finish heaving up my lunch and flush the toilet, before slumping over the wall. I let a few stray tears fall from my eyes.

"Stiles?" Derek is timidly standing at the doorframe, arms crossed.

I don't respond, I can't. I'm too busy gasping for air.

Suddenly it's like everything tilts, and I can't get my fuzzy vision to focus.

"Stiles?!" Derek shouts this time.

"Stiles, what's going on?"

I curl up in myself, rocking back and forth a bit.

In, out, in, out.

I can't focus my breathing.

"Stiles, breathe! C'mon. In-out-in-out. Just like me."

Slowly Derek helps me steady my breathing, but it takes a few minutes for me to be back to normal.

"What was that?"

"Panic attack."

"Are you okay?"

Silence.

I get up and go to the sink, turning it on and splashing some water on my face; I wipe my hands off on my jeans and head back to the living room, grabbing my backpack and keys. I wave goodbye to Derek, who still hasn't moved from the doorframe, and head out to my jeep.

It's not smart for me to be driving right now. I'm fighting back another attack the entire drive home, but I make it in one piece.

I'm so torn; I have no idea what to do.

I mean, I need to break up Lydia and Andy. No matter how awful she's been I can't let her date a guy like that.

Unfortunately, breaking them up is going to be practically impossible, since A) I'm not on speaking terms with her, B) Everyone already thinks I'm jealous and C) he terrifies me.

Unless I tell people what happened. But even then I'm not sure if they would believe me at this point.

That doesn't matter though, since I can't imagine getting the courage to speak up. I rub my eyes and grab my backpack before exiting my jeep.

I go straight to my room, avoiding my dad; he doesn't need to see me like this.

Once I'm up in my room I tear off my jeans and climb into bed. I don't bother with showering or even brushing my teeth. I just curl up in a ball and lie in my dark room, staring at nothing until the sun comes back up.

I spend the weekend trying to figure out how to get Lydia and Andy apart, but my mind keeps telling me the same thing over and over 'you have to tell them'.

It's like once I heard about them, they were everywhere.

On Monday when I was walking to my locker I saw them at the other end of the hall, leaned against the lockers, flirting. I dashed into the janitors closet and stayed there for the 20 minutes until first period. I just curled in on myself and rocked a bit, feeling so trapped.

I ended up being a few minutes late to first period, greeted with a smug look from Harris.

"Mr. Stilinski, mind telling us what was so important that you missed the first 5 minutes of my PowerPoint?"

Oh nothing, just trying to get over the fact that a girl I used to be close friends with is dating my….the person that really hurt me.

I just give him a blank stare and take my seat.

"Well, since you were nice enough to finally getting around to joining us, would you mind giving the class an example of a binary compound?"

Magnesium oxide, sodium chloride, sodium fluoride.

I just held my stare but said nothing.

Harris was starting to get annoyed, I could tell.

"Well, Mr. Stilinski, since you seem to love disrupting the class," silence is a big distraction, apparently, "I'm going to have to send you to the principals office."

I blinked a few times, trying to clear my head, before scooting back my chair and grabbing my books. I was about halfway to the door when a girl called out.

"Wait! Mr. Harris, he's not challenging you. He doesn't talk ever, he's like mute."

I know, or think at least, that she meant well, but I'm pretty sure things just got 10x worse.

"Stiles Stilinski, mute? Have you met him?" Harris laughs.

"Have you?" Asks a boy from the back row, and wow, this is not happening. I decide I've hear enough and turn on my heel, heading straight for the principals office.

"ah yes, Mr. Stilinski," the office attendant greets me, "I just got an e-mail from Mr. Harris, something about apparent refusal to speak?"

I nod a tiny bit and take a seat, waiting for my turn to speak with the new principal, who I hadn't even met yet. The most annoying part is that before I found out about Lydia and Andy, I was slowly starting to speak again. Or at least, I had an outburst with Derek, and said a few words to my dad. But still, it was progress. And now I feel myself shutting down again, when my words would matter the most.

"Mr. Sti-lin-ski?" The principal had trouble reading my name and I walk into his office, awkwardly taking a seat.

"So, I hear you were late to class and you refused to speak when your teacher asked you to?" I looked up from the floor, in confirmation and the principal started typing away on his Stone Age computer.

"I have reports that last week you were sent to the guidance counselor for lack of speech, but dashed out of the room mid-session."

I shrugged sheepishly.

He typed something again, before sighing.

"Unfortunately, I have no choice but to call your parents."

My eyes widened and I shook my head frantically.

It's not that I was afraid of getting in trouble, it's that my dad had enough on his plate without having to deal with this.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Stilinski, it's protocol."

He clicked the mouse a few times, "ah here it is," he said, when my contact information loaded, and I could see a flash of guilt on his face for a moment. I knew what he saw on my contact page.

Father: John Stilinski

Mother: N/A, deceased

He picks up his phone and dials my house number, but no one answers because my dads at work. So then he tries my dads cell, no response, before finally calling the sheriffs office.

"Yes, hello Sir. This is Principal Anderson at Beacon Hills High, I'm calling on behalf of your son Stiles."

There's a quick pause, and I could kill just to hear what my fathers saying.

"No, no, your son is alright, no need to worry."

Figures my dads first concern would be my safety, I feel even guiltier.

"Yes, unfortunately your son was sent to the principals office by his chemistry teacher Mr. Harris."

I've complained to my dad about Harris so many times, it's actually a positive that he's the one that sent me to the office I guess.

"Yes, apparently your son was late to class, and refused to tell his teacher why. In fact, he refused to speak at all."

Another pause.

"Yes, I heard of the incident in the counselors office last week too."

Pause.

"Of course sir, I'll see you then."

He hangs up the phone, "your father should be here in about 15 minutes."

And Oh God, dad is leaving work for this. Just what he needs, more reason to put his job at stake.

I close my eyes and chew on my lip, staring at nothing until I hear the door open behind me and my father walks in, still in his Sheriffs uniform.

"Stiles." His voice is stern, mixed with a hint of worry.

God, can you drown in guilt?

I can't meet his eyes and turn away, ashamed.

"Your son hasn't said a word since his arrival in the office," he pauses for a moment and give me a worried look, "he has been very cooperative though."

My dad nods and glances at me.

"Stiles, why won't you talk?"

The expression on his face when I wouldn't speak to him either was heart wrenching.

"Well, we're only going to give your son a detention for being tardy to class," everyone knew that wasn't the real issue here, "as for his refusal to speak, we're going to have to sign him up for more sessions at the counselors office. They'll be mandatory. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays during his lunch hour. Unlike last time, if he leaves mid session, he'll be punished the same way he would be if he were to leave in the middle of a class."

My dad nods, "what about counseling outside of school? He used to see a woman after his mother passed." My father asks, speaking as if I wasn't two feet away from him.

I shake my head frantically, I am not seeing a shrink again, that's for damn sure. It would be nothing but a waste of my father's money.

"We can see how his sessions with Ms. Morrell go, and if there's no improvement with him, then yes, I would recommend external counseling."

My father nods and lets out a sigh, running his hands through his hair.

"Okay, that sounds good.

The principal turns to me; "We're going to send you back to class now. It's almost second period so you should just head in that direction, and then after school you'll stay for detention for an hour."

I nod, and glance at my dad.

He doesn't look mad, just confused and upset.

I head out the door, but instead of going to my locker I head to the janitors closet, and just sit on the floor and breathe. I take out my notebook and place one of my tree drawings in the corner of the closet, since it had become my favorite hiding spots.

The bell rings and I leave the janitors closet and grab my books for second period. I hear whispers pass me down the hall, and it's not the usual ones directed at me. It's people talking about me. Apparently news of what happened in Harris' class was spreading like wildfire. Which was stupid, because nothing exciting happened.

I feel eyes on me all day and I hate it. The only bright side about spending lunch in Morrell's office is that I wont have to deal with the stares and whispers.

"Nice to see you again, Milczacy."

I take my seat and say nothing.

"It looks like we'll be seeing a lot of each other.' She comments, flipping through a binder.

"Is there a reason that you've decided to stop speaking?"

Silence.

"Has something happened?"

Silence.

She nods even thought I didn't say anything.

"You know, selective mutism is rare, especially in adults. Well, young adults, I suppose," she glances at a file, "you turn 17 later this week."

Oh, I had actually forgotten about my birthday.

"Now are you not talking on purpose, to prove a point of sorts, or do you feel as though you can't talk. Like speech scares you."

She must've noticed my flinch because she purses her lips and nods, writing something down.

"What scares you, Milczacy?"

I swallow, and my eyes dart around the room.

We both stay silent until the bell rings.

At the end of the day I go to Harris' room for detention, but he just waves me away.

I guess he realized that what my classmates said was true and I really don't talk.

I drive straight home, knowing my father would've taken the day off to talk to me.

I park the car right next to his squad car, but don't get out of the car. Instead I just grip onto the steering wheel and take a few deep breaths. I feel like curling in on myself. I wish I could just crawl into the depths of my brain and hide away from the real world.

It takes me a few moments to calm and then I sluggishly tread into the house, my dad isn't waiting for me in the living room like I expected him to be, so I just take a seat on the couch and wait for him nervously.

My mind wanders and all I can think about his how I need to tell somebody. I'm being selfish by not, by letting Lydia just date a guy like that. For letting a guy like that roam free. What if he did it again? It would be my fault.

I hate feeling so weak, it's just three little words but I can't will myself to say them.

I wonder what people would think of me, I wonder what my mother would think of me,

I wonder how she'd feel if she knew I was being selfish enough to keep this secret.

"Stiles?" I hear my father call, and look up to see him walking down the stairs.

I blink a few times and feel stray tears fall from my eyes.

"Stiles, what's…why are you crying?"

I take one look at him and just lose it. I go from a few tears to a gushing waterfall, whimpers included.

My dad hugs me immediately, "hey, hey it's alright, it's okay. I'm here, I've got you."

I keep crying as he holds me and finally muster a "dad?"

"Yeah?" He whispers back and I let out another whimper as fresh tears fall from my eyes.

"Do you think mom would be proud of me?"

The question completely catches him off guard. He probably thought I was upset over what happened at school. Plus we rarely spoke about my mom.

It was one of those moments where the difference in who we lost hangs in the air. My father lost his wife, and I lost my mother. And while we both loved her and both miss her, they're two completely different people to lose.

It's like how on mother's day my father gets awkward around me, or how on their anniversary each year I try my best to avoid him.

I'm wondering what impression my dead parent would have of me, and my father is at a slight loss for words for a moment.

"If she saw who I see, someone who cares about those around him as much as you do. Someone as smart or as brave as you, then yes I know for a fact she'd be proud of you. I know I am, even when you upset me, even when you… I'm proud and she would be too."

Brave.

I knew then that I had to tell someone.

 


	9. Chapter 9

" _Stiles, What the hell did you do?"_

" _Scott, oh my God, I -" but Scott shoves past me and grabs Allison's arm, pulling her outside._

_People figure out the cops were called and start running in every direction._

" _I stand there for a moment, glued to the spot until Lydia comes up to me._

" _Lyds,-"_

_She slaps me across the face, silencing me._

The next day, I make sure to get to first period early, and find myself one of the first people there. I take my seat and immediately bury my face in my book, avoiding eye contact with the rest of the class. That is, until Scott walks in, and I can literally feel his eyes searing into my soul. I glance up at him and he just smiles sadly. Maybe he feels guilty. I don't think he realized until yesterday that I don't really talk anymore.

Which is stupid, frankly. We have more than one class together, along with pack meetings.

Thankfully, outside of Harris' class, no one talks about me getting sent to the office anymore, it's literally yesterday's news.

At lunch, no one mentions my absence from the table yesterday. Which is good, because I'm only going to be able to sit here on Tuesdays and Thursdays from now on.

After school I drive to Derek's. I hadn't seen him since Friday since I spent my weekend locked up in my room; too upset to feel fear and my dad was home yesterday.

I walk into the loft and glance around, but Derek is nowhere in sight. I shrug and start on my homework, assuming he's upstairs. I hear a creak from the spiral staircase, and turned to him, only, it wasn't him.

"Ah yes, my nephew mentioned you might come over."

I stare at Peter, but don't answer.

"He's out running some errands. Should be home soon though."

I nod, and turn back to the math problem I was currently working on.

"I must say, I'm a bit surprised to see you here. I thought you and Scott were glued at the hip, I never imagined you and Derek to be that way."

I make a face and shrug, wishing Derek would just get home.

"Is there any reason you-"

He's cut off by the sound of the door sliding open.

"Ah Derek, good you're home. I have to say I was a bit confused when you said Stiles might drop by. But it makes sense, he's not quite the conversationalist he used to be."

Derek gives him a world famous glare and Peter backtracks up the stairs.

"I'm going, I'm going."

"Sorry about him., I thought I would be able to make him home before you got here." Derek tells me as he puts whatever he bought away into a drawer.

I shrug in a 'don't worry about it' gesture.

Derek sits on the far end of the table, taking out his laptop and typing away at something.

I scribble on the side of my math homework until I hear footsteps behind me.

"Well Derek and Co. It was nice seeing you all, but I need to get back home."

Derek nods a goodbye and Peter heads out. I look out the window and see him get in his car and drive off.

"As an alpha how much control do you have over your pack members?"

My voice is raspy and talking makes me panicky, but I need to know.

Derek doesn't look up from his laptop, "over my betas? A bit, I mean you saw what a single growl could do to Isaac."

I feel bad bringing up his betas, knowing Erica's gone and Boyd is missing.

"But what about the human members?"

Derek gives me a confused look, "well, I can command you to do things, and hope you follow through. But I can't like, force you into submission like with a beta."

I immediately tense at those words and he notices.

"Why the sudden interest in pack dynamics?" He asks.

"No reason." I mumble, and turn my attention back to my tree drawing.

I was hoping that Derek would somehow be able to use his alpha-ness to get Lydia to stop dating Andy. It was my tiny last ditch effort for not having to tell anyone.

But now that I don't have that I have to figure out when and how to tell. I'll probably tell Scott. Even though he's been a shitty best friend, it's the only person I can think of. I know once I tell Scott my dad will find out eventually, but I can't tell him first. I just can't.

The next day I have another lunchtime session with Morrell, something I'm not sure I'll ever be able to get used to.

"Milczacy, right on time!" She must love my birth name.

I take my seat across from her and stare at the potted plant on the windowsill.

What kind of flowers are those? Lilacs?

"When did you stop speaking?" She asks this time, getting right down to business, but of course I don't respond.

"It must be fairly recent, but how recent?"

Silence.

She nods to herself, jotting something down and I fight the urge to try and glance at what she's writing.

I start chewing on my bottom lips while she asks a few more questions that I know the answers to but just wont say. I think my silence is a good enough answer for her.

The rest of the day goes by without any hiccups and soon I'm in my car driving to Derek's. My dad is working a double shift today to make up for Monday, so I'll be here awhile.

Derek's walking down the spiral staircase when I walk in, he's wearing sweats and tank top and looks like he just finished a workout. I wonder what Derek's workout regime is. One thousand crunches a day?

I sit at the table while he grabs some clothes from his dresser and heads to the bathroom to change and I feel bad for making him have to leave in his own home.

Right as I'm unzipping my backpack the front door slides open and Scott and Isaac come crashing in.

"Uh, hey Stiles, what are you doing here?" Scott asks and Isaac smirks.

"Dude, he practically lives here, where have you been?"

"Oh. I didn't know you two were friends."

"He's not here to see me."

Isaac states smugly right as Derek walks into view.

"Hey Derek." Scott greets and Derek nods his head in greeting.

Isaac looks like he's about to dart to his room, but then Scott takes a seat on the couch and Isaac follows his lead.

I'm scribbling a tree when I feel eyes on me, and realize Scott's not so subtly observing me, to see if I really don't talk.

I don't know why, but it reminds me of this game we would play back in 8th grade. In class we would take turns staring at each other until the other notices, whoever could stare the longest would win.

At first I ignore it, try to focus on properly shading my current sketch. But I can't concentrate knowing I'm being observed so I look up and give him a blank stare and he gives me an awkward, forced smile and I don't have it in me to smile back.

After a few hours, Scott leaves and Isaac retreats to his room, and I don't move from my seat at the table. Derek heads upstairs to make a phone call to Deaton, and I find myself staring out the window. It's getting dark outside, I watch as cars drive past the building, and there's some people on the sidewalk. An old woman clutching a small dog, a happy couple holding hands, a mother clutching onto her young son. There's just so many people, I can't help but wonder if everyone is as complicated as I feel.

Someone handing me something interrupts me, I look down to see it's a plate with some roasted vegetables and rice. Derek hasn't offered me food before, just our daily coffee, but then again I usually don't stay so late.

I smile at him gratefully, and try to swallow my guilt for eating his food.

The once silent room is filled with clangs and scrapes of utensils, and I carry out dishes back to the kitchen in an effort to be polite.

I don't leave until 11, and fall asleep as soon as my head hits my pillow, for once.

The next morning, it's my birthday. I'm 17 now. But when I look in the mirror I see the same scrawny kid staring back, and I don't feel any different. But I'll never be 16 again, and I feel weird mourning that age for a second.

My dad's still asleep, which is totally reasonable since he worked so late yesterday, so I make myself some microwave pancakes instead of the usual granola bar as a birthday treat. After that I get ready for school, making sure to wear my lucky plaid shirt.

I head straight to my locker, and then straight to Harris' class, getting there 10 minutes before the bell even rings. I spend most of class staring at my notebook, trying my hardest to focus on What Harris is saying, but finding it impossible.

After class I go to my locker, and right as I'm about to shut it I notice someone standing behind me, I whip around terrified, but it's only Scott.

"Hey, um, Happy Birthday!" He tells me, and honestly I'm so shocked he remembered. I smile at him shyly, and right when he's turning to leave, I grab his arm cautiously. He stops and turns back around to face me.

"Look, I, um-" he gives me a confused look and I take a few deep breaths, "about- at the party, I-"

Scott eyes glisten with understanding, like he knows where I'm going with this.

He doesn't.

"Look man, I forgive you okay. But you need to wait for everyone else to before you start hanging out with us again. It's only fair. I mean, I get you want all you friends back, but can you even think about how they feel? What you did was selfish, don't be more selfish by not giving them space."

I stare at him, my jaw dropping, and I realize too late that I need to fight back tears.

"Stiles?" He asks cautiously, reaching for my arm as a stray tear falls from my face.

I pull away from him and shake my head.

"That's not- something happened Scott. Something bad."

"What? What do you mean something happened? Stiles what are you talking about?"

I turn and dash down the hall, ignoring as Scott yells my name.

I hide in the janitor's closet, laying on the floor and staring at some of the tree pictures I taped to the wall. I guess this is an abandoned janitors closet or something, since no one has taken down my pictures.

I feel so betrayed. I don't know why, but I was expecting Scott to listen to me. But hearing him call me selfish was just too much.

I sigh and wipe away a final tear before heading to second period. I'm a few minutes late but my teacher is nice enough to not say anything.

The rest of the day is all right, but I'm too distracted with what happened with Scott to really think.

During lunch Danny greets me with a "Happy Birthday" and hands me some Reese's from the vending machine, which definitely helps brighten up the day.

During Econ, Scott stares at me during the entire class, but I don't even glance in his direction, afraid of what will happen if I do.

At the end of the day I drive to Derek's. My dad's only working until 5 tonight so we can have dinner and cake together, but that still gives me an hour to kill and I don't feel like spending it alone.

Derek greets me with a usual nod, and Isaac doesn't come home. He's probably out with Scott, and I've got to say the idea of them hanging out without me on my birthday hurts.

I do my homework and proofread my lit essay during the hour I have at Derek's. It goes by pretty quickly, and is filled with silence until I'm about to leave.

Right as I'm zipping up my backpack, Derek looks up at me.

"Oh, wait." He says and rifles around in the cupboard before pulling out the plastic grocery bag he brought home the other day when Peter was here, and handing it to me. He sits down across from me at the table while I open the bag; in it is a sketchbook and a pack of graphite pencils.

"Happy Birthday, I figured since you're always drawing, may as well have a sketchbook."

I stare at the book in awe and then glance up at him and smile, an actual, genuine smile.

Someone was paying attention, someone cared.

He rises from the table but I grab his arm and he looks at me questioningly before sitting back down.

I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths while Derek watches me confused.

I can't say it.

I open the pack of pencils and flip to the first page in the sketchbook; I close my eyes and write it down before closing the book, and sliding it across the table to Derek.

I slowly open my eyes, my heart is beating out of my chest and my palms are covered in sweat as a confused Derek opens the book and reads the three words that ruined my life.

I WAS RAPED

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually my favorite chapter! I think because A) He tells someone B) Peter cameo and C) 9 is my lucky number.  
> thank you for all the reviews!


	10. Chapter 10

_I ended up walking home. Scott was supposed to drive the jeep back to my place since werewolves can't get drunk. I knew that even if I were sober, I probably wouldn't be in shape to drive myself home, let alone be able to do it now. Drunk. So I walk._

It's almost as if the entire world stills. Derek stares at the notebook intently and I stare at him even more intently, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious.

Finally he looks up at me, and holy shit I've never seen Derek look so pissed off. And this is Derek we're talking about, Derek Hale.

"Who did this?" He asks.

I don't know why, but the question sets me off edge. I start shaking like I'm going to cry, which makes this the second time I've cried on my birthday. Derek's expression immediately softens, and he moves so he's sitting next to me.

"Hey, hey it's okay." He tells me, and comforting definitely isn't Derek's forte, but his words still calm me a bit.

I blink away the tears and let out a shuddering breath, turning to Derek.

"It was at Lydia's party."

Realization dawns on Derek's face.

I let out a choking sob and he gingerly takes my hand and I squeeze it, needing the comfort.

"I-I've been thinking, figuring out that maybe I…" I close my eyes and swallow, because hey, why not come out while we're at it "I like boys. I mean I like girls too, but also boys…maybe. I mean yeah, I like them both"

Derek's face shows no judgment, so I continue.

"And um, I was at Lydia's party. And I was alone and this boy came up to me-"

"Do you know who it was?" Derek asks, but I ignore him, because I need to finally get this off my chest, and I feel it's now or never.

"And he was c-cute and I was drunk and he said he wanted to talk to me but the music was too loud-"

I let out a laugh that could only be described as hysteric, "so stupid" I whisper, shaking my head as more tears fall. Derek squeezes my hand gently and I take a deep breath, continuing my story.

"So he brought me to hi-his truck, and we sat in the back," I run my free hand through my hair and look at Derek frantically, "I know how it sounds, but I didn't-" I shake my head again.

"Stiles this is in no way your fault." He says sternly and I avoid his glaze, needing to continue.

"And we talked about stupid shit like lacrosse and college and then at midnight he kissed me. And I was like wow finally someone likes me. The last person who kissed me was my lifelong friend and she was murdered minutes later. So I k-kissed him back and then-and then he was on top of me, and he tried to undo my belt but I moved his hand, because that was t-too much for me. But then he tried again and I moved his hand again. I didn't even think about it I thought he was caught up in the moment, ya know? Then on the third fucking time I finally said something, but he ignored me. And I told him to get off, and I hit his chest, and I tried. I wanted to scream but he put his hand over my mouth and then he was pulling down my pants a-and his and then he…. I closed my eyes but it hurt so much, oh god it hurt, and it was my first time and I didn't want it. I didn't! I was crying and pleading and then he finished and he smiled at me. I was shaking and crying and bleeding and he fucking smiled at me!"

I'm in hysterics now and Derek wraps his arms around me, and I cling to him like my life depends on it, sobbing into his shoulder.

"And then I tried to call the cops. But when they answered it's like I couldn't form words. I kept thinking help me, he's here, he-he hurt me, but I couldn't say anything.

A-and now. Now he's-. His name is Andy Evans. He's dating Lydia." I sob into his shoulder, and Derek stiffens, but waits for me to calm down before he speaks.

"He's dating Lydia-" another look of realization, "that's why you had the panic attack last week, and why you wanted to know about betas?"

I nod, and wipe at my eyes, too upset to feel embarrassed for crying.

He nods to himself before looking back up at me, I must look like hell.

"Don't worry. We're going to do something, okay?"

I nod and he runs his hands up and down my arms in an attempt to calm me.

"Does anybody else know?" He asks and I shake my head.

"No, just you."

Derek opens his mouth to say something but is cut off by my phone chiming.

It's a text from my dad, 'where are you?'

I reply to him that I'm on my way home.

"I'm sorry, I have to go." I tell him and he nods, scooting his chair away from me.

"Are you okay driving home or do you need a ride?" He asks as I put the sketchbook and pencils away in my backpack.

"I can manage, don't worry. Thanks for everything."

He nods again, and I slide the front door open.

"Stiles?"

I turn back around.

"What made you decide to tell me?" He asks, and I shrug.

"I knew you'd listen."

I try to focus on the road when I drive home, but it's hard. I have a million thoughts fluttering through my mind. It feels good to finally have the truth off my chest though.

"Hey, happy birthday kiddo." My dad greets me as I walk into the living room and I smile at him.

"Are you alright? You look like a mess."

I laugh because aint that the truth. I'm a mess inside and out.

"Stiles?" He asks again and I just hug him, I cling to him and I let the waterworks flow.

My dad is startled, but he immediately hugs me back, rocking me in place slowly.

"Hey, hey. Shhh, it's okay." He coos and I cry harder.

"No, it's not. Nothings okay."

My dad holds me tighter and we just stay like that for a bit until I calm.

When we finally separate, he looks at me with concerned eyes.

"Stiles, you need to tell me what's wrong, okay? You need to tell me so I can fix it."

I shake my head desperately, wishing more than anything I hadn't had my stupid breakdown.

"Later. But not right now, not today. Right now I just want to order Chinese food and eat cake." My dad looks at me wearily and nods. I can tell he wants to push the issue, but he doesn't, thankfully. He probably realizes what a progress it is for me to address there's an issue in the first place.

It's too late anyway.

The damage is done.

Nothing can take back what he did.

We eat noodles and egg rolls and have red velvet cake for dessert. I even let my dad have a second slice. After dinner my dad gives me an All Time Low t-shirt and a card with 100 bucks tucked in it, but it still doesn't feel like my birthday.

Right before bed I fetch the sketchbook out of my backpack, and with a pair of scissors I carefully cut out the first page, and fold it up neatly, tucking it away in one of the unused pockets in my backpack.

Even though the food coma should settle in, it doesn't, and I don't find myself falling asleep until the early hours of the morning.

Then my alarm clock jostles me from my sleep; I try to remember the events from last night. Were they a dream? Or did I actually tell someone?

It feels too surreal knowing my secret is out there, but I trust Derek not to tell anyone.

During Chemistry I can tell Scott is contemplating whether or not he should talk to me, so I dash out of class as soon as the bell rings, hoping to escape him in case he makes up his mind.

Of course, it's Friday, so I have to go to counseling with Morrell, again. Even if I were ready to speak, I wouldn't want it to be with her.

"Ah yes, Milczacy, right on time."

"Stiles." I whisper.

She immediately sits up upon hearing my voice.

"I'm sorry?" She asks for clarification.

"Stiles. Call me Stiles."

She nods, immediately writing something down.

"Of course, Stiles. Any reason why you're choosing now to tell me this?"

I don't point out that she already knew I go by Stiles.

I sit on the chair across from her and wrap my arms around my knees, choosing not to respond.

I couldn't.

But that was okay, because I didn't need to. She knew the answer already, it was probably in the same 'Psychology for Dummies book' she got her stupid questions from.

I was making progress. Baby steps, but progress nonetheless.

I spend the period reading the inspiration quotes framed on the wall, and drowning out any background noise.

AKA Morrell's voice.

I can't wait for the day to be over, I just want to see Derek. Well, there's a sentence I never thought would cross my mind.

When the bell rings at the end of the day, I all but run to my locker.

I don't speed while driving there though, because my dad is an officer of the law, and I owe it to him to set a good example.

That, and the traffic is terrible.

When I make it to the loft, I have to fight myself from running inside.

It doesn't matter anyway though, since Derek isn't there.

And Scott and Isaac are.

"Don't worry he'll be back soon." Isaac greets me and I smile at him in thanks. It doesn't stop me from feeling twitchy and anxious though. I don't understand why, exactly though. I mean it makes sense, I told Derek my deepest, life-changing secret, and then had to run off. Now we can actually talk about it, sit down and figure out what to do, hopefully. I'm not sure yet how Derek will react, what Derek will do. This doesn't completely explain my sweaty palms or fidgeting, but it's a contributing factor.

I take a seat on the couch since Isaac and Scott have claimed the table, and chew on my nails, hoping Derek won't take too long to come home.

I feel a hand on my shoulder, "Stiles?"

I flinch and immediately pull away, I start panting, my eyes widened in fear.

Scott pulls back his hand like I burnt him, but I don't have it in me to feel sorry.

Isaac watches us from the table and his eyes widen as if he's figuring something out.

Just then the door slides open, and Derek walks in. He must immediately notice my panic, because he glares at Scott.

"Get away from him!"

Scott looks at him, confused.

"I didn't do anything."

"Doesn't matter. Just give him space."

I can tell Scott wants to say more, but a glare from Derek is enough to stop him, and he backpedals.

I take a deep breath and look at Derek with grateful eyes. I can tell he knows I want to talk about last night, but obviously we can't do that with Isaac and Scott here.

He sits next to me on the couch, and I play with a loose string on the bottom of my backpack, for once just wishing Isaac and Scott had plans.

After a few minutes that feel like forever, Derek turns to me, and when our eyes meet he juts his head to the side, gesturing to the front door. I immediately understand, and nod, grabbing my backpack as we walk outside.

I slide into the passenger seat of his FJ Cruiser. The Camaro seemed more…Derek, but the Cruiser reminds me of my jeep.

Derek starts the car and starts driving aimlessly, both of us waiting for the other to speak.

"When I had my pack, or well, Erica and Boyd" he begins, breaking the silence but not the tension, "I was all about action. Not thought. I-" He muses his word choice for a moment "I didn't think ahead. It was my Achilles heel."

Is-is Derek Hale talking to me about his…faults? Emotions? Is this real life?

I move my head from where it's resting on the window, and turn to look at him, "Why are you telling me this?"

He smirks, which is the closest Derek gets to a smile.

"Because I knew you'd listen." He tells me, the same thing I said to him yesterday.

I raise and eyebrow at him and jut out my chin.

"My point is that, even though I want to tear that jackass's-"

"Throat out with your teeth."

"Actually I was gonna say tear that jackass's balls off."

I shudder at the seriousness in his voice.

"But I'm going to fight the urge to kill and maim that son of a bitch for hurting you-"

I'm glad he doesn't use the R-word. I can't even use the R-word yet; I'd hate to hear someone else say it. "Because that won't solve anything. Well, it would. But it's not the right thing to do." He finishes.

"Predators, not killers." I whisper, remember the words he quoted lifetimes ago.

Derek turns to me, and I want to tell him to put his eyes back on the road, but there's this look on his face I've never seen before. I almost want to memorize it just to understand it. Thankfulness? Awe? I can't describe it.

"You need to tell someone."

"I already did, remember? That's kind of why we're having this conversation."

He actually laughs, I've known Derek for a good year and I don't think I've ever heard him genuinely laugh before. I thought he was allergic to it.

"You're laughing." I state, as if we had just stumbled upon the Holy Grail or something.

"Yeah and you're being sarcastic."

I'm about to tell him that's kind of my thing, nothing rare. Usually hated by him, and the general public sans one Scott McCall, but then I remembered.

"Honestly, I forgot for a second. " I tell him, things had felt normal again. I had felt normal again. And the conversation suddenly feels less lighthearted, grimmer.

"You need to tell someone. Someone who isn't me. Your dad, a teacher, someone who can do something…. And Lydia, Lydia needs to know.

"I don't want to tell my dad. I mean he'll have to know eventually, but not yet."

"That's okay, we'll wait until you're ready…. You know this is the most I've heard you say all year." It's not the best segue, but I can tell he wants to address the matter.

"Yeah, it's the most I've said all year, not just to you…but to anyone."

Derek nods and silence fills the car for a few minutes, shockingly, I break it, wanting to elaborate.

To speak.

"I don't know why…but ever since it happened. Ever since I called the cops… It's like I've been, I don't know, afraid. Afraid to speak. I can't explain."

"No, I understand."

"People started to notice. I have to see Morrell on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. And if that doesn't work then my dad wants to send me back to the shrink we had when my mom died."

Derek nods, "Would that be such a bad thing?" He asks, noticing the distain in my voice, and I give him a pointed look.

"I think I'm making improvement. I mean, I can talk to you-" I whisper the last part, "I feel safe talking to you."

He nods and gives me another look I can't describe. I never knew Derek was capable of facial expressions past scowling or glaring.

I rest the side of my forehead on the window again and watch the trees pass by.

After a few minutes, I break the silence one last time.

"I'll tell Lydia."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for all the reviews! Also, try reading the driving scene while listening to "Wait" by M83. It's what I listened to when I wrote it and I think it fits


	11. Chapter 11

_My dad wasn't home. He always worked overnight on New Years. As soon as I got home I went to the bathroom and changed out of my clothes. My boxers had blood in them, and I wanted to make a joke to myself about how only girls are supposed to bleed their first time, but it came out as a choking sob instead._

After our drive, Derek takes me back to his loft. Isaac and Scott are still there and I don't need werewolf senses to smell the confusion radiating off of Scott. Isaac is impartial since he's used to seeing me around, although I notice he's a bit observant with me today. I lounge on Derek's couch, stealing one of his books on mythology and not really concentrating on reading.

We didn't have a pack meeting that Friday, but we were going to have one next Friday, and I was hoping to tell Lydia beforehand, which meant I had up to one week to figure out how to tell her, and of course, get the bravery to do it. My mind kept playing all there scenarios of how she could react.

Most of which ended with her slapping me.

Lydia and I have a rocky relationship. I pined over her for 7 years before realizing that I wasn't in love with Lydia Martin, I was in love with the idea of Lydia Martin. After I stopped acting like a fan boy around her, we actually became pretty close. In a totally platonic way. I considered her a good friend, and I think…hope she considered me the same. But then New Years happened and everything went to shit.

I wondered if Lydia trusted me when we were friends, or if it's just now that she wouldn't trust me. I wonder if she misses me at all, but then I remember how I 'selfishly ruined her life', and lean towards probably not. I wonder if any of my friends miss me. Doubtful.

I wish my relationship with Lydia was at least a little mended. Like how Isaac will wave to me, or Scott at least acknowledges my 'selfish' existence at times. But out of all of my former friends, my relationship with Lydia is by far the worse, which makes telling her even harder than it already is.

And fuck it really is.

Eventually I went home, hoping the weekend would be enough time to mull over a plan of action.

It wasn't.

Monday morning rolled around, and all I had managed to do was psych myself out. I had math with Lydia, and the same lunch period, so I was planning on finding a way to tell her during one of those classes. On Monday when I got into math I passed my desk and started walking to hers, but then I was hit with a wave of panic and dashed back to my own seat.

Honestly though, what was the worst Lydia could do? Abandon me in rage? It's not like she would tell anyone what I said if she didn't believe me. She wouldn't want a rumor spreading.

During lunch I had to go to my counseling session so I didn't even see Lydia. Not that it mattered; I doubt I would have told her anyway.

Obviously, I didn't speak of these fears with Morrell, however I did express them to Derek after school.

"I don't know, I'm just so terrified. And I don't know why!"

"Were you afraid when you told me?"

"I was more afraid of what would happen if I didn't tell someone…it was eating me alive. I couldn't breathe. It was like a panic attack. A constant, agonizing, panic attack."

"Then try not to think of what happens if you tell Lydia. Think of what happens if you don't."

I nod at him and close my eyes, biting down on my bottom lip. The metallic taste of blood snaps me back to reality and I wipe my bleeding mouth off on my sleeve.

"You okay?"

I glance over in the direction of sound, Derek.

"Yeah. It's not the first time this has happened."

It's not. I had cut open my lip quite a few times this year, it wasn't as concerning as it was painful and gross.

Derek raises is eyebrows in concern but doesn't comment, thankfully.

I decide it's best to pull Lydia aside during lunch and tell her then. Unfortunately, the next day during lunch, I didn't see her at her usual table, which was once my usual table. Later in the day she was in math class, so she must have been in the library during lunch.

After school Derek doesn't ask me if I asked her, which is good, because I really don't feel like admitting that I yet again didn't manage to tell her. I don't think he would judge me though, but it's still a fear.

Deep down I wonder if he judged me for what happened, but I try my best to suppress that fear.

On Wednesday I have to go to Morrell's during lunch, which still pisses me off. Does my lack of speech affect my grades? Does it affect anyone but me? I was mad that I was stuck wasting time having her ask me the same questions over and over while I could be telling Lydia. I just wanted to get it over with at this point.

I go straight home after school since my dad has the evening off, but spend most of it curled up under my blankets. I build a little fort where no one can hurt me. That night, I turn on the shower, but instead of getting in I stood in front of the mirror and practiced telling Lydia. It kind of reminded me of practicing my smiles in the mirror the night before picture day back in middle school.

"Hey Lydia," I whispered to the mirror. I imagined Lydia glaring at me and grabbing her books to storm off in the opposite direction.

"Wait Lydia it's an emergency!"

Imaginary Lydia rolls her eyes and keeps walking.

"Lydia, if you ever cared about me at all, please. Please." Imaginary Lydia contemplates for a minute before walking back to the table and siting down next to me.

"What?" Imaginary Lydia asks, obviously annoyed.

"Lyds," imaginary Lydia rolls her eyes at the nickname, "Lyds, at the party," imaginary Lydia looks about ready to leave.

"Lyds, I was hurt," I don't even notice I'm crying until I look up from the sink and back to my reflection. I decide that's enough imagining things and take a quick shower before hoping in bed.

I run a good million scenarios in my head before falling asleep.

The next morning I get a lunch pass for the library. I figure I'll go to the Cafeteria, and if Lydia's not there within the first ten minutes of lunch, I'll use my pass and go to the library.

"Hey," Danny greets me as I sit down and I wave.

"Are you okay? You look pretty pale." I nod, even though I'm not. I'm so nervous I feel lightheaded. I observe my table of former friends, waiting for Lydia to take a seat, Danny follows my gaze.

"Do you miss them?" He asks, and I nod, because unfortunately it's the truth. Even though it's not why I'm upset.

"Just, give them time." I smile at Danny even though his advice is shit, because at least he's trying.

"Thanks." I tell him and his eyes widen. I give him a confused look in return.

"Sorry, It's just weird hearing your voice. Never thought I'd miss it."

I fake a smile, and shrug. Lydia's still not at the table, so I decide that I'll go to the library once I finish my sandwich.

It's peanut butter and jelly, it reminds me of elementary school. Reminds me of being a happy kid, with two parents, and a huge imagination. Reminds me of innocence.

I had my innocence stolen from me on New Years.

The sandwich suddenly tastes stale and I chuck the remaining half in the garbage before waving goodbye to Danny and grabbing my backpack, heading for the library.

My predictions are correct, I can spot Lydia's signature strawberry blonde mane from a mile away. She's sitting at an empty table perched over some giant book. Her back is facing me, so she doesn't see me take a good 5 minutes to prep myself. I know I've been wanting to get this over with, but now that's she's here…it feels too real. The terror that hit me before hits me again, tenfold.

I take a deep breath and take my first small step towards her.

The library felt a mile long with every tiny step, but finally I was standing right behind Lydia. She didn't notice me until I grabbed the chair next to her and scooted it out.

She must have been too surprised to glare, because she just stared at me, mouth slightly agape as I sat down next to her, staring ahead.

To my outright astonishment, she didn't leave the table, just picked up her pencil and continued jotting down notes from the world largest book.

Deep breath, eyes closed, "h-hey."

She doesn't acknowledge me.

"I- uh-" deep breath, "I need to tell you something."

She doesn't even glance up.

"About- about what happened on New Years."

This, she acknowledges. She slams the book closed and starts to gather her things.

"Wait! Please, Lydia. Please. Let me explain. I- I didn't call the cops because I was jealous or anything. Something happened, please."

My voice breaks a few times, and I've never felt so desperate.

Thank the lord, Lydia sits back down.

Her arms are crossed and she's fuming, but at least she didn't leave.

We sit in silence for a few minutes, while I try to get the energy to say three words, until she finally acknowledges my presence.

"Well, are you going to tell me or not? I don't have all day."

I nod and close my eyes.

"I… I. I was-" my voice breaks and I can't. I can't say it.

Lydia looks like she's at the end of her rope, when an idea hits me. I unzip the little pocket on my backpack and take out a small folded piece of paper.

Lydia raises an eyebrow before rolling her eyes and taking the paper. She unfolds it and the same three words I wrote for Derek stare back.

I WAS RAPED

She looks shocked for a moment, rereading the three words a few times as if they'd change anything. Yeah, I wish it were that easy.

Finally, her expression does a complete 180 as it immediately softens, and she grabs my arm, leading me outside to a bench.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Stiles, I- what happened? I mean, did you get a disease or something? And-and how? I mean. Oh God, you probably don't want to talk about it, but – God Stiles."

I sit in silence as she rants in shock, before she finally turns to me, her expression serious.

"Do you know who did it?"

I bite my bottom lip and nod.

"Who? Who did it? I'll make them sorry they were ever born."

I look up at her with guilty eyes, "it was Andy Evans."

Lydia's jaw drops, "you-you. I can't believe you! I can't believe you'd be so jealous! That you could stoop this low! Fine, be jealous, have a pathetic little crush on me! But to constantly try to ruin my relationships? First you call the cops, and then you accuse a great guy of something like this? That's twisted Stiles, you're sick!"

She retreats back inside and I bite my lip so hard it tears through my gums. I'll probably need stitches.

The rest of the day, it's like I'm in a trance. It feels like I'm standing still and the entire world is moving too fast.

I drive to Derek's after school, he's sitting on the couch when I walk in, and I sit on the opposite end, staring ahead.

It takes a good ten minutes for me to say anything, and when I do I can't even look at him, I just keep staring forward.

"I told Lydia."

"What happened? What did she say?" Derek's voice is filled with energy.

My voice breaks when I turn to him, "you know, he's a great guy Derek," a hysterical laugh falls from my lips, "I'm twisted, I'm sick."

Derek stares at me, but doesn't respond. I can tell he's trying to think of what to say.

"It's a lot of news for her to handle all at once. Maybe she just needs time to process it…" I can tell he doesn't believe it.

I shoot up from the couch, panting out a breath.

"Time? Time! That's-" hysterical laugh, "that's what Scott said my friends needed! And they all left me! Time isn't always the answer you know! TIME DOESN'T FIX EVERYTHING! IT DOESN'T GIVE ME MY FRIENDS BACK, AND IT DOESN'T MAKE LYDIA BELIEVE ME AND –AND" I start hyperventilating, choking out my words, "IT DOESN'T TAKE BACK WHAT HE DID! TAKE BACK MY VIRGINITY!" Derek silently takes my arms, holding them in front of my chest in an attempt to calm me.

"I HATE HIM! I HATE HIM! I FEEL LIKE I'M NEVER GONNA BE HAPPY AGAIN! HE RUNIED EVERYTHING! HE- HE RUINED ME! I FEEL SO BROKEN, DEREK! AND I HATE IT!" I finally burst into hysterical sobs and fall to my knees, taking Derek down with me. He lets go of my arms and gently draws circles on my back while I sob.

"I-I can't- I cant do this Derek. I'm not strong enough! I'm trying so hard, but I can't function. I can't sleep, I'm afraid of my own shadow, and can't even talk. I feel so trapped, I feel so alone-"

Derek pulls back and tilts my head so our eyes meet.

"You're not alone. Just because your friends are being assholes doesn't mean you're alone. You have your dad, and you have me. And I believe you. And I'm gonna help you."

I stare at him for a second before wrapping my arms around his neck and burying my face in the crook of his neck.

"I feel so weak." I whisper to him, and he rubs circles in my back, holding me.

It takes awhile to calm me; I spend a good ten minutes wrapped in Derek's arms, afraid to leave. I soak his Henley with tears, but my sobs are silent.

I pull away from him and look down, abashed.

"Sorry." I whisper and he gives me a confused stare. He pauses for a few minutes, as if waiting for me to elaborate.

"For what?" He asks.

"For, piling all this on you. You have enough shit on your plate with the alpha pack. And God, here I am wailing about feeling broken while you've been through so much worse and you never complain."

I felt really guilty for breaking down on Derek; he didn't deserve to deal with my problems.

Derek stares at me, shocked.

"Stiles, shit, don't apologize. I'm glad you're finally telling someone what's wrong."

My eyes don't meet his and he realizes I don't believe him.

"Stiles, look at me."

I finally glance up, my eyes, still red from tears, meet his concerned ones.

"Stiles, you're a trauma victim. You went through something horrific. Don't blame yourself for breaking down, and don't compare your pain to others."

I nod at him, taking a minute to compose myself.

"I hate him." I whisper again.

"Trust me, you're not the only one."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU FOR THE REVIEWS  
> *sniff* this is a sad chapter :,(  
> Fun fact: when Stiles yells "I hate him! I hate him! I feel like I'm never gonna be happy again!" That line was stolen from Degrassi! Youtube "Maya breaks down" if you want to watch the scene it's kinda inspired from.


	12. Chapter 12

_I turn on the shower as hot as it will go. It practically burns my skin, but I ignore it. Scrubbing away until my entire body is red, and then some._

I curl into a ball on Derek's couch and stare ahead at nothing, until he turns on the TV we all convinced him to get. He flips through the channels and stops on the MLB network. The game is just beginning, Mets VS Astros.

I let out a content sigh and move into a more comfortable position on the couch while Derek leaves to make us some coffee.

It starts to rain, and for a moment things don't feel so messed up.

Rain always makes me feel safe and cozy. When you're indoors, it feels like a shield, makes any space seem like a safe little hut away from the world.

I wouldn't mind if it rained forever. I'd stay in Derek's loft where nothing could hurt me, I would read every book he owns and maybe he'd tell me stories of his past, and I'd tell him stories of mine.

We wouldn't talk much, but the pitter-patter of the rain would break the silence, and make things feel whole.

Derek hands me a mug of coffee and I smile at him, taking a sip.

"Do you-uh- do you mind if I crash on your couch tonight?"

He must hear my heartbeat stammering out of my chest when I ask him, terrified he'll get weirded out by me.

"Uh yeah, sure. Why?"

"Well, my dad is working the night shift," my dad had worked the night shift other times since New Years, and I had been okay, but this time, "and usually I'm okay when he has a night shift. But tonight…. I- I don't think I'm in the right mind set…"

I trail off and Derek glances out the window.

"That sounds… will you be alright tonight?"

I nod, "yeah, I'll be okay if I'm here. I-I just don't think I should be alone."

"Is it just your fear of being alone or something more?"

"I'm afraid if I'm left alone tonight, I'll do … something I'll regret."

Derek eyes widen at my implication and he scoots a little closer to me, but still leaves a gap between us.

"Well, you're pack. You're always welcome here. Especially now, when you seem to really need it."

I smile at him and he gets up to head to the kitchen and start on dinner, and I find myself following him.

"Mind if I help?" I ask timidly as he raids the fridge.

"Sure, but uh-" he pulls a cabbage, some onions, and a tomato and from the fridge before shutting it and opening the freezer, "I might have to run to the store, or order something."

He rummages through the pantry before pulling out a box of rice and a pack of egg noodles.

I give him a confused look and put the rice back in the pantry, before opening his fridge, which wow, it's practically empty, and pulling out some butter, and returning the tomato.

I pre-heat the oven and turn to a very confused Derek.

"Where do you keep pots?"

He rummages in a cabinet under the stove and pulls out a cheap looking metal pot.

"Start boiling some water, I'll chop the vegetables."

"Um, Stiles, what are you making?"

"Haluski." I tell him, as if it's obvious, because to me it is.

Derek gives me a confused look and I elaborate, "It's just noodles and cabbage. It's Polish."

"I didn't know you were in tune with Polish Cuisine," he tells me, as he turns on the sink and lets water pour into the pot.

"My mother was from Poland." I tell him and he doesn't say anything after that.

I teach him how to make haluski, and we end up with a full pan, so there's leftovers. We sit on the couch to eat and we're about halfway through with our meal when Isaac walks in. He follows his nose straight to the kitchen.

"What is this?" He shouts, and Derek turns to me for the answer.

"Haluski." I barely whisper.

"Haluski!" Derek shouts back even though Isaac probably heard my whisper. He probably wanted to keep up the calm illusion that only he could hear me, since I only trusted him with my words.

Isaac returns from the kitchen with a bowl of his own and sits on the chair.

I scoot a hint bit closer to Derek, and the three of us eat in silence.

The Mets win the game.

After we did the dishes, Derek went searching for a spare blanket after giving me an extra pillow from his bed.

"He's spending the night?" Isaac asks, slightly baffled.

Derek nods, not paying much mind to Isaac's confusion. Isaac has a thoughtful face for a moment before he timidly turns to me.

"Is everything okay at home?"

I nod, confused.

"I-I mean is everything cool between you and your dad?"

What's he implying? Does he not want me over? Is he trying to remind me I have a perfectly nice home to go to, and shouldn't be staying at the loft?

I want to ask, but my lip quivers instead, so I just nod again.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were…safe."

Oh. OH.

"He's not… hitting me. He's just working overnight and I…don't want to be alone. But uh, thanks for looking out for me."

Isaac nods, but I can tell he's still trying to put the puzzle pieces together.

Derek returns with a pillow from his bed a large green knit blanket.

Isaac runs off and returns with a pair of basketball shorts, and a t-shirt.

I smile at him, and awkwardly gesture to the bathroom, my way of asking if it's okay that I take a shower.

"Yeah sure." Derek responds in an aloof voice.

I look at both of them, and gesture a second time, as if to make sure it's okay. I'd feel guilty stealing the shower, but both Derek and Isaac shake their heads.

"I'm more of a morning shower person." Isaac states and Derek nods in agreement, although I'm not sure they're being 100% honest.

I slip into the bathroom and turn on the shower, waiting for the hot water to heat up. While I wait I take one of the small paper cups and pour some mouthwash into it, I can't brush my teeth since my toothbrush is at home, and I figure this is better than nothing.

I wait until the water is scalding and strip down, stepping in. I can't skip showers anymore, not that I would skip them often before. But before if I had a late night, I would figure skipping one shower wouldn't kill me. But now it doesn't mater if it's 1AM, I'm taking a shower.

I quickly shampoo my hair with some axe shampoo, which I assume is Isaacs. Before picking up a bottle of body wash, it's some fancy brand I've never heard of, and pour some in my hands before scrubbing down my body.

It smells like pine trees, figures Derek would buy it. The scent is familiar though, nice. I slowly sink down, sitting in the middle of the tub as the hot water pours over my body, leaving my skin red.

I stay like that for a few minutes, pushing aside the sudden urge to scream, before getting out of the shower and drying myself off with a fluffy dark blue towel. I slip back into my boxers before putting on the basketball shorts and T-shirt Isaac loaned me. The T-shirt falls to my thighs, and I look like a little kid wearing their parent's clothes.

I put the towel in the laundry basket before folding my jeans and shirt, and taking them outside with me. I place them next to my backpack and curl up on the couch. It's only about 10, but I'm already exhausted. I guess my tears wore me out.

Isaac heads upstairs to his room, and Derek turns off all the lights, except for the one on his table, as he types away on a laptop. The clicking noises calm me, and I find myself drifting away.

I feel something cold on my neck, and wake up to see Andy staring over me, a knife pressed to my neck.

"Scream and I'll kill you." He whispers, and I nod, glancing over to find Derek asleep in his bed.

"I can't fucking believe you. First you beg for it, and then you lie to my girlfriend? Pathetic little shit."

I open my mouth to say something, but he just presses the knife to my neck, and I immediately stiffen, feeling a hint of blood oozing from where he pressed the knife.

He grabs the hem of my shorts and pulls them down in one swift motion.

"After this, you'll never even think of telling anyone. I guess you didn't learn your lesson the first time, didn't learn how to keep quiet."

He drops the knife, and grabs my forearms, pinning each one above my head with a separate hand.

I start screaming.

"STOP! STOP! LET ME GO! STOP! HELP! HELP!"

I'm screaming as loud as I can, but Derek doesn't even twitch in his sleep, and Isaac never comes bounding down the stairs.

"LET GO OF ME! STOP! STOP IT!"

"-ILES!"

"NO! NO!"

"STILES!"

"STOP IT!"

"STILES PLEASE WAKE UP!"

"STOP! STOP! AHHHHH!"

But suddenly Andy is gone, Derek and Isaac in his place.

Derek is on my side, while Isaac is next to me, pining my arms above my head

My eyes dart around frantically and I start screaming again.

"LET GO OF ME! LET GO OF ME! STOP!"

Isaac immediately frees my arms, and I pull them to my sides, wrapping them around my chest. I let out a few pants and close my eyes.

"I'm sorry, you wouldn't stop, and I had to pin your arms down." Isaac tells me, and I open one eye.

It was just a dream, Andy isn't here. I'm with Isaac and Derek, they wont hurt me. Derek wouldn't let anything hurt me. I'm safe here.

"W-wouldn't stop what?" I ask and Isaac gestures to my arms, and I realized I left some pretty bad scratches on them.

I examine them, and Derek looks petrified. He slowly reaches a hand out, and places it on my arm.

"S-sorry I woke you."

"It's fine, don't apologize. I'm going back to bed, but let me know if you need anything." Isaac tells me with a tired voice, as he heads back upstairs.

Derek squats down next to me, not letting go of my arm.

"He was here." I whisper to him after a moment, knowing Isaac's probably sound asleep again and wont hear me.

"He held a knife to my neck, I was screaming but you were still asleep and he was gonna do it again. He-he said he would teach me to stay quiet. I kept screaming, but you didn't hear me."

Derek shakes his head, "I would never let that son of a bitch hurt you again. You're safe; " his hand travels down my arm before grabbing my own, "okay?"

I squeeze his hand and nod, never wanting to move from this position.

Derek holds my hand until I fall asleep, and I don't have another nightmare.

My phone alarm wakes me up, and I slowly untangle myself from the blanket. I reach down to grab my clothes from yesterday, and wish Isaac were downstairs so I could ask to borrow another shirt.

Derek must read my thoughts because he reaches into his dresser and grabs a plain black t-shirt, tossing it to me. I nod I thanks and go to the bathroom to change, splashing some cold water on my face and gargling mouthwash again. I keep deodorant in my backpack so I use that. I wear my hoodie from yesterday to cover the nightmare scratches on my arm. When I re-enter the living room Isaac's sitting on the couch eating a granola bar. He heads to the bathroom after me and I go to the kitchen and grab my own granola bar and a glass of water.

I wait for Isaac to get ready so I can give him a lift to school.

I really didn't want to go to school today. Not just because I was dreading school, but also because I didn't want to leave the loft…leave Derek. He's the only person I feel completely at ease with, feel safe with.

The ride to school is a bit tense and awkward. I can tell Isaac is struggling with whether or not to say something.

He decides to say it.

"Look, um," he fidgets in his seat, "I know you and I don't... well we were never that close. But I can tell something's up. I know your dad isn't abusing you, but someone's doing something. And um," he rubs the back of his neck "just, I know we're not that close but I'm like here for you or whatever. I mean, shit that sounded douchey…if you ever need someone to like, beat the shit out of someone…or someone to talk to, I'm here."

Even though his speech is anything but eloquent, and probably turned me off ever wanting to have a heart to heart to Isaac, like ever, it still means a lot.

I smile at him gratefully, stopping at a read light.

"Um, one more thing…." He trails off and I look at him expectantly, "why…why don't you talk?"

I turn my head back to the direction of the light, and don't respond, letting the jeep echo in silence until we reach school.

I park in my usual parking spot and ignore the bewildered expression on Scott's face as he sees Isaac exit my car.

I doubt Lydia told anyone what I said, but I'm still terrified when I enter school that everyone will know. I close my eyes as I push open the doors to the school, but my ears aren't filled with whispers, and when I open my eyes, no one is staring, so it's safe to assume Lydia didn't tell anyone.

Scott glances at me a few times in Chemistry, and I panic for a moment, before remembering that I gave Isaac a ride to school and he's probably beyond confused. I wonder if Isaac will mention the fact that I spent the night, I'd pay good money to see Scott's reaction to such scandalous information.

For once in my life I was glad about spending lunch with Morrell, mostly because I wanted to put off dealing with Lydia for as long as possible. During math I never looked away from the whiteboard, eternally grateful that Lydia and I sat on opposite ends of the classroom. But during lunch, I'd be in full view for her to glare at. And it's not just like I was afraid of having her glare at me, as pathetic as I may be at times. I was afraid of a constant reminder that she doesn't believe me. A constant reminder of what happened.

I sat on my usual seat across from Morrell, wrapping my arms around my legs and resting my head on my knees.

"So Stiles, are you ready to share what's causing your curious lack of speech?"

I had been asked this question countless times, and never answered. Could semantic satiation be applied to an entire sentence?

"I do speak." I respond and she immediately perks up in her seat.

"Besides telling me to call you Stiles, this is the first time you've ever spoken during one of your sessions." She accuses.

"I said I speak. I didn't say I speak to you." I respond flippantly, envisioning Derek.

She ignores my icy tone, jotting something down in my folder.

"Do you associate speech with trust?" She asks, glancing up.

I'm caught off guard. I imagined her to ask my why I choose not to speak to her, or who I do speak to. Not to be so spot on with her question.

I don't respond, trying my best to keep my face neutral. She jots something down in the folder, but doesn't seem surprised by my lack of response.

I was the textbook example for mixed emotions, mostly my emotions about the pack meeting tonight.

On the bright side, Derek and his loft, on the downside, Lydia.

I wondered if she would even go to the meeting. I had a feeling she would. She's probably assuming that I'm not going to go, since she had the back up of all her friends, and I don't.

Well, I do actually, I have Derek, but she doesn't know that.

After Morrell I'm at my locker getting my books for AP Stats when Danny stops in front of my locker.

"So are you going tonight?" He asks casually and for a millisecond I think he's talking about the pack meeting. I'm about to freak out, wondering when he found out about the supernatural. But then I realize if Danny knew, Derek would've told me, so I just turn to him confused.

"AP art auditions?" He elaborates, and my eyes widen.

Shit, I had completely forgotten. I was convinced they were next week.

"What time?" I ask him.

"Uh," he opens his binder, and pulls out a sheet of paper, handing it to me, "here, all the info's on that."

I nod and start speed reading so I can give it back, but Danny's already closing his binder.

"You can keep that, I grabbed it for you." He tells me offhandedly and I smile at him, closing my locker and heading to Stats.

I pull out the flyer as soon as I'm in my seat, and read over the times.

' AP Sculpting Audition- 4PM

AP Photography Audition- 5PM

AP Studio Art 2D Design Audition- 6PM

AP Studio Art 3D Design Audition-7PM

AP Studio Art Drawing Audition-8PM'

Ugh, figures mine would be the last. It looks like all the auditions were an hour long, which meant I probably wouldn't be able to get to the pack meeting until 9:30. I pull my phone out under my desk and send a quick text to Derek.

"Is it okay if I miss the 1st half hour of the pack meeting?"

To my surprise, Derek's reply comes immediately.

" Why, you avoiding Lydia? Cause you can't do that forever."

"No it's not that…AP art auditions are today. I dunno, thought I might go. Its stupid though I don't have to."

"No, you should go."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, it's a great idea."

I smile to myself and shut my phone back in my pocket, trying to catch up on our lecture.

I realized half way through that I didn't have a portfolio ready, and began to freak out a bit, trying to think of ways to get a proper one together in time. Thankfully I had a few hours, so that was good. Most of my drawings were in the abandoned janitor's closet I had claimed as my own, so I could probably go collect them after school and get something together.

After Spanish class, instead of going straight to my locker, I went straight to the janitor's closet. Insert joke about how that's a metaphor for my life.

I was about to collect up the papers so I could decide which ones to use and buy a folder for them, but I realized I really liked the way the looked right now. Portraits of trees decorated the walls of the closet, making it look like some vast, uncertain forest.

I took a picture of it, and sent it to Derek, not even thinking as I did so.

I decided to stay at school during the auditions, instead of head to Derek's and then come back, and then go back to Derek's.

I spent most of it seated outside the art room reading a book Derek loaned me, Fahrenheit 451.

Waiting is inevitably boring, but Derek sends me a good luck text halfway through, which helps brighten up the time.

The AP Drawing auditions start, but since the alphabet is against me, I'm one of the last people to be called.

"Sti-stilini-ski?" I hear a woman call, and immediately trudge over to the table.

"Ok, have you ever taken any art classes before?" She asks and I shake my head.

"Okay, well I'm going to be completely honest, most people usually have to take on-level before AP. I'm not saying there's no chance, I'm just letting you know the odds. Even if you have a talent, you usually have to learn how to properly use it first. Only those with a very exceptional talent find themselves straight in AP." She explains to me and I nod.

"Now, let me take a look at your portfolio."

She waits a moment and then tilts her head to the side, a smug sort of look on her face.

"You do have a portfolio, correct?"

I nod, but then jolt my head to the side, gesturing to outside.

"It's not on you?" Then go get it." She tells me with a tired sigh.

I gently take her arm and once again gesture outside.

She looks at me confused before the woman next to her leans over and whispers something.

I have a feeling the woman either whispered, "oh his drawings are all in a janitors closet, obviously" or "you know he's about as talkative as Cassandra Cain, right?"

But it doesn't matter, because she follows me outside and to the janitor's closet. Baffled until I turn on the light, and then she seems mesmerized.

After a few minutes she turns to me, her smile lacking it's smug charm.

"Congratulations, Mr. Sturminsli, you have that exceptional talent."

If I didn't subconsciously link physical contact with mental breakdowns, I'm pretty sure I would've hugged her.

I smile during the entire drive to Derek's, until I park and see Lydia's car and Scott's bike and remember, oh shit, I actually have to face Lydia.

I awkwardly slide open the loft door, and find space between Isaac and Derek on the couch.

"Why are you so late?" Allison asks.

"He's only 20 minutes late." Isaac comments.

"Yeah, but these meetings are only an hour long."

Everyone turns to me expectantly, so I turn to Derek, giving him a tiny nudge with my elbow, as if to say 'you can tell them'.

"He was at the AP auditions." He tells them.

"AP classes don't have auditions." Lydia points out with a pretentious tone, as if she'd caught me in a lie. I'm not lying this time, and I wasn't lying last time.

"AP art does." Isaac responds, smugly.

Scott gapes, "Stiles in AP art? Um, Stiles in art at all?"

I hate how the focus of the meeting has been directed at me. So I was late, can they just move on with their lives? I understand they must've been suffering without me, but still.

I glare at Scott, and to everyone's surprise, especially my own, I speak.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Scott quickly attempts to backtrack, "nothing, it's just, I've known you since kindergarten, and you've never mentioned an interest in art."

I know he has a point, but I'm still angry, "don't act like you know me, Scott. You don't, not anymore."

I can tell he wants me to elaborate, but Isaac cuts in.

"So how'd the audition go? No offense, but I hear it's practically impossible to get into AP art without taking on level first."

"Not entirely impossible." I mumble with a smile, and blush when Isaac gives me a congratulatory pat on the back.

I ignore Scott's dumbfounded expression and we settle back into discussion on the new students, the Alpha twins.

Lydia doesn't speak to me again during the meeting, she doesn't glare either. She just observes me, kind of the same way Isaac does sometimes. I wonder what she's looking for, what she's expecting.

I have an idea I'll find out eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is super long because when I originally posted this story on fanfiction, it was to celebrate 100 reviews. Speaking of reviews, thank you for the reviews!  
> Also, fun fact: I added in the Mets game because Stiles likes the Mets, and I thought he deserved a victory, but alsoooo because I'm actually a lifelong Mets fan myself. They're actually how I discovered Teen Wolf. I saw something about Dylan O'Brien and the Mets, and was like "ooh Mets" and clicked it. Which introduced me to my love Dylan, and my obsession, Teen Wolf. So, if you like this story, then thank the fact that I'm from New York.


	13. Chapter 13

_I pilled on multiple layers, before wrapping myself up in a cocoon of blankets. I kept my desk lamp on, every time I saw the darkness, I saw him. I couldn't fall asleep._

The next week went by antagonizing slow, since it was the last week before spring break. For me, Spring Break always meant it was getting close to the end of the school year, which was hard to believe. Spring break, then a week later was prom, and then three weeks after that was summer vacation.

I was excited about spring break, even though I didn't have plans. I mean I never went out of town, but I would still usually have plans to go to the pool or six flags with Scott. But still, the hallways were abuzz with excited students, and even the teachers seemed calmer this week. The relaxed atmosphere in the school was definitely appreciated. And I was excited to have a week off. Even if it would be spent wrapped in bed or at Derek's, it would be nice to escape school. Because even though the bullying died down immensely over the semester, it had never truly gone away.

On the Tuesday of that week (which felt like it should have been a Friday) Isaac decided to shake things up in my seemingly ingrained lifestyle. .

I was drawing in my sketchbook, halfway listening to a deep-rooted debate between Danny and Eric over Nike VS Adidas, when I heard something drop down across from me. I looked up to see Isaac placing his lunch tray on the table, and pulling out a chair.

I want to ask him what he's doing here, but all I can muster is a "wha?" with what I'm guessing is an amusing facial expression.

He just shrugs in a kind of shy way that almost reminds me of the old Isaac before he was changed.

"Well, since Derek's practically claimed you as his own whenever you come over, I thought we could bond over lunch."

I smile in gratitude and I don't mention the fact that Derek hasn't claimed me, I just go there to see him. I mean, before seeing Isaac was just plain awkward, and now it's kind of nice. But I still don't trust him with my words the way I trust Derek.

It's so odd, to think that Derek's been my rock. Derek "rip your throat out with my teeth" Hale.

I wonder sometimes if New Years didn't happen, if Derek and I would still be friends. I wont ask him, because Derek's not Scott, and doesn't sit around talking about the depths of his relationships with people. (Depths that apparently mean nothing). Deep down, I know the answer is probably no. Before all this happened he probably saw me as nothing but annoying, and I saw him as nothing but brooding. But I'd realized over the past few weeks that Derek and I had something in common. We put up walls. Telling people "I'm fine" had become my modus operandi, no matter what the circumstances were, while Derek made himself seem apparently void of emotion. And it made sense; Derek had not only faced unimaginable loss, but had faced unimaginable betrayal.

I just wondered what I had done to be deemed worthy to see the real Derek Hale.

And I wondered why I cared so much.

Because the only solution I could think of, scared me.

Isaac doesn't try to force conversation, which is nice. He's been around me enough to understand that my speech is a work in progress, not something that can be coerced.

Instead he devours his lunch in 5 minutes flat, before joining Danny and Eric's riveting debate. (He, much like Danny, was team Nike).

The rest of the week was unbearably slow, but eventually Friday rolled around. I rolled down the windows to let in some of the nice spring weather as I drove to Derek's, my passenger seat hosting a pile of books I had checked out of the library this morning. One, The Brothers Karamazov, was for Derek. The rest were for me, that way I had something to occupy my time over the next week. I checked out some Sherlock Holmes as an ode to myself, as well as some books on the history of contemporary art, because why not, and, tucked into my backpack, was a complete history of Polish cuisine.

I missed my mom.

I slid open the door to Derek's loft, and went straight to his couch, prying open the first Sherlock Holmes book.

Derek came pounding down the steps a few minutes later, his arms stacked with scrolls.

"I need your help." His voice is laced with urgency, and I immediately follow him to the table, where he's spread out the scrolls, some blueprints, some documents.

"You, you cant tell anyone what I'm going to tell you, okay? Not even Isaac." Derek seems frazzled instead of his collected self and I wonder how important the information is. And why he trusts me with it.

"Deaton got word that apparently the Alpha pack has a hostage."

"Boyd?"

"A second hostage," he looks up from the blueprint and stares at me with a look that could only be classified as despair, "my sister, Cora."

I stare at him, mouth ajar, as he elaborates.

"I thought she was dead. But according to Deaton's source, she's been their captive for a little over 2 months. I don't know where she's been, or how they found her, or how she's even survived."

"Derek, say no more. I'll help you however I can, I get it, trust me."

And I did, if I found out there was some error and my mother was alive, I would do everything in my power to get her back. But I held my mothers hand while she died, and saw the monitor flat line, so I know that would never happen.

Derek nods and looks back at the blueprint, "she'd be same age as you" he adds absentmindedly.

We look at the documents for a few minutes before I sigh and get something off my chest.

"I'm all about helping you, trust me. But are you sure I'm the best person to turn to? I mean I can do research and maaaybe get my hands on a police scanner, but my abilities end there. Oh and mountain ash, I can do stuff with mountain ash."

" You're the only person I trust to keep this a secret, the less people that know the better."

I don't ask him to elaborate, because I understand his fears. What if word got to Scott and his hero complex stepped in, and he decided to try and rescue Cora and the mission failed? What if the alpha pack found out that we knew about their advantage?

A million scenarios rushed to my head and I nodded.

"Well, first things first, we need to find out where they're keeping her." I tell him.

I pick up a pen to circle where we spotted them last, before faltering.

"Actually, do you mind if we stop by my house? I have a few things that might help us."

Derek nods, and we head out to his car, during the ride I make a mental list of what we'll need.

He parks in front of my house, my dads cruiser gone, I can tell he's contemplating whether or not to follow me inside, so I make the decision for him.

"I'm gonna need help carrying things." I tell him, and he nods, following me inside.

We go to my dads study first, I head straight for the safe, typing in the password.

"Your dad gave you the password to his safe?" Derek asks incredulously, and I shrug.

"Well, technically no, but he was so predictable in making it my mothers birthday, I think he almost wanted me to know."

Derek raises his eyebrows amused while I grab the spare police scanner my dad kept in here for whatever reasons. I the closed the safe and headed for his filing cabinet, grabbing the one with information on areas that needed to be condemned.

From there we headed to my room.

My room had changed of the course of the past few months. It was neater, mostly because I was a textbook example of someone in dire need of control, but I also had a crime board, linking together different mysteries with spools of thread.

I grabbed my track bag from my closet since my backpack was at Derek's, and started filling it with things we would need. My laptop, some spools of yarn (Derek looked too confused to comment on this), and my Adderall.

I looked at Derek with slight hesitation, "my dads got an overnight shift, if you want I could crash on your couch?"

Derek nodded; he didn't really look like he cared. So I grabbed some sweats and clean clothes for tomorrow, and ran to the bathroom and grabbed by toothbrush.

We drove back to the loft, and when we got there I grabbed the file, the police scanner, and some spools of yarn.

I explained to Derek how I used the yarn to link different cases together. Red is unsolved, yellow is to be determined, and green is solved. Then I showed him the file on places in the city that needed to be condemned. Aka abandoned areas.

"They're most likely hiding her in one of these areas, but we need to figure out which one."

Derek glanced at the yarn and then at the file, "so we need to see if we can find a connection between the alpha pack, and one of these locations."

I nodded and we got to work, keeping the police scanner on, in case anything irregular came from it.

"586 on Maple Ave." The scanners words startled us both.

"Wait, what? 586."

"Illegal parking, don't worry."

Derek raised his eyebrows, "you know the police codes?"

"Have you met my father?"

"Point taken."

We kept flipping through the pages for the next few hours, sometimes googling a specific point of interest, but so far-nothing.

"I've got a 261A, suspect in custody."

Derek perked up and turned to me, but I had already caved in on myself.

"I-it was just an attempt." I told him shakily.

"Attempt at what?"

My eyes met his, and they widened in understanding.

"Oh, um, I think I'm gonna order a pizza. What toppings do you like?"

I smiled at the idea of a pity pizza and requested extra cheese.

We stayed up almost all night trying to at least narrow down where the alpha pack could be keeping Cora, but no such luck. We knew we couldn't just check all the locations, because then they could figure out our advantage.

The next morning we were woken by the sound of Isaac sliding the door open. He looked around loft, with string everywhere, papers littering the floor, me waking up on said floor, and Derek bringing his head up from the table, and just pursed his lips and nodded before retreating upstairs.

That's pretty much how I spent my spring break, about 90% of it at Derek's loft, helping him figure out how to save his sister. Isaac wasn't home much, and thankfully when he was he never brought anyone else over. We were able to deter that the abandoned house on Moore Ave was out because of city inspectors going there only a month ago, the closed down corner shop downtown was also out because of an attempted break in that happened while we were researching.

There were other locations, but we were pretty sure she was either being kept in a former bank, an abandoned church, or a restaurant just outside of town that was closed down for health code violations.

The bank made sense because of vaults, the church made sense because it had underground columbarium walls, and the restaurant made sense because of it's isolated location.

When school started back on Monday, everyone seems half depressed, and half excited. Excited because the count down board was officially posted in the hallway (only one month of school left) and prom was this Saturday.

The idea of prom made me sick, not because I wasn't going, but because Lydia was.

With Andy.

I knew I shouldn't, couldn't give up on her just yet and would have to find a way to convince her, but I just couldn't think of how.

Isaac had made a habit of sitting at my lunch table on Tuesdays and Thursdays, Scott no longer gaped in shock, but Lydia still stared. Not at Isaac, but at me.

On Friday, we had another pack meeting. Derek explained how he believed we had narrowed down the alpha packs location, but didn't tell them where we had narrowed it down too. He also conveniently left out the fact that they had Cora.

During the entire meeting, Lydia kept glancing over at me. At the end, when everyone was leaving, it looked like she wanted to talk to me, but she didn't

When I got home after the meeting, my dad was sitting at the table, hunched over some files. If he knew about everything, I would point out how similar we are. Instead, I pulled out the chair across from him and sat down.

"Dad," he immediately looks up upon hearing my voice, "I'm bi."

I think he was waiting for me to jokingly add 'lingual' and when I didn't he got up from his chair and moved to the one next to me.

"Well I'm glad you told me, you know I'll love you no matter what."

I sprang from my seat and immediately hugged my dad. Because honestly he had no idea how much his words meant. I was pretty sure he would accept me, but there was still an underlying fear of rejection. If my only parent decided they couldn't accept me for whom I was, I would probably snap.

"Hey, hey it's okay." My dad tells me, returning the hug.

I hadn't even realized I had begun crying, I guess that was like my thing now.

My dad pulled away, but held me in place so I would meet his eyes.

"Is this why you've been so distant lately? You've been afraid I wouldn't accept you?"

I shook my head, wiping away my last tear.

"No, I'm just really happy you did."

I had always planned to come out to my dad before I told him about New Years, simply because he would have to know I like boys to understand why I would willingly make out with one. And I don't think I would want him to find out through the story of my…assault.

I spent Saturday at home, since I felt less weighed down around my father. Evidently, my sexuality was a little white lie compared to my other secret, but it felt nice to know I had finally been honest with him about a major aspect of my life, and he had accepted it, no questions asked.

On Sunday morning my dad left for a business trip in LA and I drove over to Derek's. We had done most of our research on location, rather then members. So we decided we should try to find a way to link one of the members to one of the locations.

"He greeted me with a head jerk as I sat down next to him on the couch, and pulled my laptop from my bag.

I glance around, trying to figure out if Isaac was home.

"Isaac's at the mall. "Derek told me, as if he read my mind, and I turned to him with a smile.

"I came out to my dad." I told him proudly, and then faltered.

"It's just, you're the only person who already knew, except well, Andy. And I dunno, I think this is a step in the right direction."

Derek gave me a calming smile and nodded.

"I think it is too. Maybe a nudge in the direction of telling him?" He stated it as a question, even though I recognized it as a suggestion.

I sighed, "Well, he's out of town until Friday, so I'm trying to figure out how to gain the energy to tell him by the time he gets home, but it's scary."

"You were able to tell me and Lydia."

I snort, "Yeah and look how well things went with her."

Derek sighs, "Stiles, this is your father. Something tells me he would take your side on this."

I closed my eyes and spoke the fears that had been plaguing me for a while.

"He might judge me though, I mean, it is partially my fault."

Derek's eyes practically glowed red.

"How can you even say that?"

"It's just…I made the choice to get in the back of the truck and make out with him. I probably gave him the wrong impression."

"Oh yeah, I'm sure when you were trying to scream and push him away he got the impression you were into it."

I flinched at the harshness in his tone, and he backed down a smidge.

"Look, you can't blame yourself. You know you didn't want it, he knows that too. Your dad deserves to know as well."

"I'm terrified."

"I know."

"Der, he's the only family I have left. If he rejects me…"

"He won't."

"But-"

"He won't, I know it. And deep down you do too. I get that you're afraid, but you can't let this fear hold you back from doing what's right."

Our conversation got cut short by Isaac's arrival, but I feel like he said all that really mattered.

The next day at school, the hallways were abuzz with drama.

Lydia Martin dumped Andy Evans at prom.

There are many rumors as to why, none including me, but the story that everyone agrees with is they had a huge fight in the parking lot, and she got a ride home with Allison and Scott instead of him.

I tried to spy on Lydia throughout the day, during math I watched the whiteboard about as much as I watched her. I almost skipped my lunch session with Morrell just to try and get an edge on what went down at prom, but then decided against it.

I went to Derek's after school, and immediately told him about the revelation.

"But I mean I told her weeks ago, so it can't be that. But still, I wonder, ya know?"

"Wouldn't she have said something to you if that was the case? Like, an apology or an explanation?"

I nod, because he's probably right.

"I guess it doesn't matter though, as long as they've broke up. Even thought I'm mad at her, I'm glad she's safe."

Derek gave me one of his rare smiles, and then gave me something even more rare, a compliment.

"You're a really good person Stiles."

I didn't say anything after that, and neither did he. But the silence that filled the room had calmness to it.

The next morning when I was walking to my locker, I noticed a few people glance at me. Not a lot, but still, it made me curious.

It didn't happen often though, and didn't effect my day, so I decided I was probably just being a bit too anxious.

Like my mind was playing tricks on me.

At lunch I only glanced at Lydia a few times, and she glanced at me a few times as well. Our eyes only met once, and she immediately looked away, with an expression bordering guilt. I decided I should maybe talk to her.

At the end of the day when everyone was packing up, I was heading towards Lydia's locker, when the woman from AP art night stopped me.

"Ah, Mr. Stalmuskine, just the man I was looking for. I'm going to need you to collect the artwork you showed me on AP night, and bring it to the art room."

I smiled and nodded, deciding Lydia would just have to wait until tomorrow.

I headed to the janitor's closet, and began carefully removing my tree sketches from the walls, when I heard the closet door shut behind me. I turned around to see what was going on, and a very angry Andy Evans stared back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we hit 100 reviews! whaaaaat?!?! (A few are form me replying to you guys but still) thank you so much!


	14. Chapter 14

_In the morning I walk back to Lydia's neighborhood to get my car. I don't pass her house since my car was parked a few houses down from it. I do however, pass the tree. I stare at it until a car honks, breaking me form my trance._

I had this nightmare so many times, for a second I was convinced I was dreaming. But I wasn't, I was awake, at school, trapped with the person who scared me the most.

Andy glowered at me as I took a few gaping breaths and tried to edge myself closer to the door. I knew my attempts were futile, but I didn't want to go down without a fight. I placed my hand on the doorknob, and pushed down, but nothing. It was locked, and needed a key.

"So, I raped you?" His voice is menacing as he breaths in my ear.

"That's what you're telling people, huh? LOOK AT ME!" He grabbed me by the wrist and spun me around, pining me to the locked door.

"You are so full of shit!" He squeezed my wrist harder and I could practically feel a bruise forming. I struggled, trying to break his hold on me.

"Why the HELL, would I need to rape YOU? Huh? You're just a scrawny little freak!" He lifted me up by the hold on my wrist and flung me to the other side of the closet, my back pounded against the wall and knocked down some cleaning supplies from the shelf. My body landed in a heap, and before I could even get myself standing again, Andy was grabbing me by the collar of my shirt, lifting me so we were eye to eye.

"Here's what you're gonna do, you're gonna tell Lydia you're a pathetic liar. And you're gonna make sure everyone in this goddamn school knows the truth."

I stare at him quivering, before I open my mouth and let out a deafening scream.

His hand clamps down on my mouth, and reaches for my zipper and it's happening again, it's actually happening again.

I fumble my hand around the shelves behind me, before it lands on an open bottle of something; I close my eyes and swing my arm around, getting the mysterious liquid everywhere-including Andy's eyes.

He drops his hands and shoves them to his face, letting out an ear-piercing screech, I glance at the bottle.

Bleach.

Andy still had my body pinned to the wall, but I try to break away while he's in pain, I'm able to escape his grasp, only for him to knee me in my side. I fall to the floor, breaking whatever I landed on.

Glass.

"Hello? Open this door!" I hear someone at the other side of the door, rattling the doorknob.

I quickly grab a shard, ignoring the blood dripping down my side, the unbearable pain in my wrist, and press it against his neck when he pins me against the wall again.

"OPEN THE DOOR!" The voice shouts again, and then there's more rattling, and then there's light.

It's Danny, and some of the other lacrosse players.

"What the hell's the matter with you?" Danny yells, and I can tell it's directed at Andy.

"Everyone knows what you did!" He shouts again, and wow do they? News travels at lightening fast speed, I tell ya.

"Say something asshole!" Eric from lunch yells.

I want to make a joke about the irony in that statement, but instead I drop the shard of glass from my hand, blood now gushing from it, and step out of the janitor's closet.

The lacrosse guys move so I can pass, and I can vaguely hear Andy screaming about how his eyes hurt, and I can vaguely hear Harris calling me.

"Stilinski? Stilinski what happened?"

I can vaguely feel the eyes of the few students left in the halls as I make my way to the door.

But before I make it, Derek bursts through the door, dashing down the hall.

"Stiles!" He shouts, and suddenly everything becomes clear.

He stops right in front of me, panting. I can almost bet he ran here.

"I heard you shouting, I- Jesus, your hand-"

I cut him off by wrapping my arms around his neck, burying my face in the crook of it, and sobbing uncontrollably.

He wraps his arms around my back, and when I fall to the floor in hysterics, he comes down with me.

I can vaguely feel the eyes of the pack, staring at me from across the hall.

After I compose myself, Derek walks me to the parking lot. His car is nowhere in site, which confirms my suspicions of him having run here. He leads me to my Jeep, a gentle hand on my back, and even opens the passenger side door for me, before taking his own seat in the driver's side.

He drives me to the hospital, and I don't say a word. I just lean my head on the window and stare at nothing. I feel disconnected from my body. Nothing seems real, it's like I'm dreaming.

I didn't even realize the car had stopped until Derek opened the passenger door for me and helped me out of the car. I probably looked insane to strangers, one hand drenched in blood, the other hosting a severely bruised wrist, and a side covered with glass and blood.

"Stiles! I haven't seen you in forever, care to explain that?" Melissa greeted me before actually looking at me, "sweetheart what on earth happened?"

I just stared at her,

"I think he's in shock." That was Derek.

Melissa leads me to an examination room while Derek stays in the waiting room.

I curl up on my side on a hospital bed while Melissa used tweezers to get the glass out of my side, and my hand.

"Okay, this is going to sting." She tells me before spraying some antiseptic, but I don't even flinch. I just want to go home.

She wrapped some bandages on the cuts, "C'mon, we need to get that wrist X-Rayed." She tells me.

Her voice was her professional voice, her calm one used on people in pain or trauma.

I hated that she was using it on me, and I hated that I fit those categories.

Apparently my wrist was broken, so I needed a cast. Melissa made my cast blue, and I smiled at her since she knew me well enough to know my favorite color.

(Even if I was radiating away from blue, and towards green.)

The whole process took a few hours, when I finally headed back to the waiting room I had one arm in a sling, the other covered with bandages, and a stained bloody shirt.

Derek's waiting for me still, he's leafing through a newspaper and the image almost makes me laugh.

"C'mon, I'll drive you home."

He leads me back to my jeep, and takes the longer route home.

It's so peaceful, just staring out the window, watching the tress roll by. But eventually we make it home, my dad's squad car resting peacefully in the driveway.

Wait-what?

His car is definitely supposed to be at the airport.

I turn to Derek, who shrugs guiltily.

"Yeah, I kind of…called him while you were in the examination room. He took the first flight home."

I trudge inside, Derek behind me, to face my father.

"Stiles? What the hell happened? First your school calls about some alteration with another kid, and then I get a call from Derek saying you're at the hospital?"

Derek stayed at the doorway while I slid onto the couch next to my dad.

"I… he attacked me."

My dad sighs and gives me a worried look, "do you want me to file a report? Call the school?"

"This was the second time he attacked me."

This surprises my dad, his eyes widen and he gapes.

"What, why didn't you tell me the first time? Why is he targeting you? Stiles this is serious, look at yourself for Christ's sake."

"On New Years, at Lydia's party-" I take a deep breath, Derek gives me a reassuring look and I close my eyes, "he forced me to have sex with him."

My father blanches, and a look of fury takes over his face.

"Are you- are you telling me he raped you?"

I start shaking, "I was drunk, and stupid. And-and he said he wanted to talk, but he couldn't hear anything over the music. So he brought me to the back of his truck….and he kissed me, and I kissed him back. But-but then he wanted to go further and I told him to stop. I-I tried shoving him off of me, but he held me down. A-and he-he covered my mouth with his hand when I started screaming. He-he attacked me today b-because I told Lydia…. I'm so sorry dad!"

My dad immediately hugs me, and rocks me back and forth a bit.

"Hey, hey, shh. It's okay. None of this is your fault, you hear me? Jesus kid, I can't believe you had to go through that."

I cling to my dad as he rocks me back and forth, and I just want to stay here forever. With my dad and Derek where no one can hurt me.

"I love you." I whisper to my father, and he runs a hand through my hair.

"I love you too Zacy." I smile at the nickname my mother used to call me.

We stay on the couch for a while, having a deep conversation with no words, until my dad heaves out a sigh and give me an uncomfortable look.

"We, we need to get you tested."

I shudder.

I know he's right, but the idea of getting STD tested literally makes me sick.

"But it was months ago, I haven't gotten any…. symptoms of anything yet."

My father looks pained, and you can practically feel the awkward in the room.

"I'm sorry kid, but it has to be done."

"Dad, dad please. Please dad don't make me." I babble incoherently until I feel a hand on my shoulder, I turn around to see Derek. I almost forgot he was here. I should feel mortified but instead I feel calm.

I close my eyes and nod, and my dad walks me to his car.

"Derek, I- I need to thank you, for being there for my kid. Lord knows you were there for him more often than me these past few months."

Derek waves my father off, but my dad holds out his hand for a famous 'Stilinski style handshake' which is just a normal handshake, but given by my dad.

"Do you need a ride home?" He asks Derek, gesturing to the car.

"No, I can walk."

My dad gives him a puzzled look, "you sure?"

Derek nods, and my dad shrugs, slipping into the drivers seat.

"I guess I intimidate him." He whispers to me as Derek walks away. I have to fight to stifle my laugh, and I can tell Derek is doing the same.

We drive to the hospital in silence, out of the corner of my eye I can see my dad glance at me every few seconds with an unreadable expression on his face. I wonder what he's thinking.

"Back already?" Melissa greets with a smirk, but I can tell she's concerned.

My dad runs his hand through my hair and pats my shoulder reassuringly, giving me a small smile.

"I think he'd be better with a nurse he doesn't know for this. No offense, Mel."

Thank God for my dad.

Melissa gives us a confused look but runs off to find another nurse.

Another nurse comes up to us, and my dad tells her I was sexually assaulted and needed an STD check. The nurse gives me a pitying look and asks my father about a rape kit and I slowly just drown out their conversation.

I'm not even going to go into detail about what getting tested for STDs was like. There are no words to describe that hell.

Thankfully, I got the all clear, and my dad took me out for ice cream afterwards to celebrate. Which is just a hint bit morbid, but whatever, ice cream is ice cream.

When we get home I curl up on the couch next to my dad. Now that the weight of my secret isn't holding me down, I feel like we can finally connect again.

Or at least, we can connect after I tell him my other huge secret.

"Dad?"

"Yeah, Kiddo?"

"What do you think of the film, The Wolfman?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! Thank you again for all the reviews, and sorry for that cliffy last chapter, haha.


	15. Chapter 15

_I spend the rest of break curled up in bed, texting apologies to my friends._

_None of them accept it, and I feel like giving up._

Scott was the first to show up.

It was the next day, Wednesday, when I heard him knocking timidly at the door. He still had his backpack on him, and I could tell he came straight from school, which I didn't attend.

I opened the door and it took a moment for him to take me in. I was in sweats and a t-shirt, one arm in a cast, the other hand bandaged up. He couldn't even see the bandages on my side that my shirt covered.

He stared at me for a moment, gaping, before I sighed and moved to the side to let him in.

He timidly followed me to my room, and I took a seat at the edge of my bed, while he stood, still staring at me.

"So, the rumors are true?" He finally asks me, in a barely there whisper.

"Depends on what the rumor is." I don't bother reminding him I wasn't at school; I know he's just avoiding saying it.

"That….at the party…Andy…ya know."

I rolled my eyes, "yeah, he ya knowed me."

"Jesus Stiles."

I gave him a small shrug, not knowing what to say to that.

"Why…why didn't you tell me?"

I abruptly stood from my spot on the bed, and glared at him.

"You act like I didn't try. Remember when you snatched the phone from my hands, and I tried telling you something, but you ran away? Remember on my birthday, when I tried to tell you about something that happened at the party and you told me I was selfish?"

Realization dawns on Scott's face, and he looks even more guilty than before, a feat I assumed impossible.

He swallows, "yeah, but-"

"But what? Scott, I was RAPED!" I had finally said it out loud, the word I feared so much. I realized I couldn't let this word have power over me.

"I was raped and it was terrifying! I was screaming but he put his hand over my mouth, I tried pushing him off, tried punching him, tried everything! I was crying and begging and he wouldn't stop! It was so painful, and when it was finally over I thought he was gonna kill me or something. Do you know what it was like to go through something like that? Do you think it's easy to talk about, to tell people? It's not! Don't blame me for not telling you, when you didn't even give me a chance to!"

Scott conspicuously wipes a tear form the corner of his eye, "I'm so sorry Stiles."

I'm still fuming, months of turmoil finally exploding.

"You should be! These past few months have been hell, and I didn't even have my so called best friend there to back me up!"

"I'm still your best friend!"

I laugh, and it probably sounds borderline manic, "Where were you when a guy shoved my face against a locker and gave me a bloody nose right in front of you? Where were you when I had a panic attack in Econ? When Lydia called me out at the pack meeting?"

"You're right, I've been a terrible friend. Stiles, you have no idea how much a regret that, how sorry I am! I know I wasn't there for you then, but I'm here for you now!"

"God Scott, it was awful. I had nightmares every night, I was jumping at shadows, and you want to know why Morrell called me to her office? Because I was too afraid, too broken to talk-"

"Stiles."

"Selective mutism she called it. People shoved my face into lockers, slammed it into sinks, and taunted me everywhere I went. Nowhere felt safe, it got to the point where I was afraid to be alone. That's why I was at Derek's so often, he was one of the only people who didn't hate me-"

"I never said I hated you!"

"You sure treated me like you did. My poor dad kept trying to figure out what was wrong with me, but I couldn't tell him anything. They even got ahold of my phone number, the people from school. I thought after I deleted all my social media I'd at least be safe when at home, but nope! Texts everyday, about how worthless I was, about how I should just go kill myself. I even started to believe them, thought about how I couldn't just steal my dads gun, OD on my moms old sleeping pills, just take a knife and slit my wrists and be done with it-"

I'm cut off by Scott hugging me fiercely; for once I'm not the one crying.

"Stiles, I'm so sorry! Stiles, oh my god I'm sorry! You didn't deserve any of that! I've been an awful friend and it's okay if you never forgive me, I know I'll never forgive myself. But know that I'm here for you if you ever need it. Please, please don't kill yourself!"

I take a few deep breaths, finally ending my rant.

"I'm not gonna kill myself." I tell him as he pulls away from the spine-breaking hug that I didn't return.

"Oh, okay. Good, good. Just, I'm sorry. I really am sorry."

I cross my arms and nod at him, not knowing what else to say.

I had missed Scott, part of me just wanted to forgive him right then and there so we could go back to playing X-Box and lacrosse together. But I knew it couldn't be that easy, and even if it could, I had learned to respect myself these past few months. And I deserved better than that.

I knew I'd probably forgive Scott one day, but after he earned it.

Lydia drops by later that evening, a few hours after Scott left.

She knocks timidly, and I let her in my living room, and I can tell she's contemplating what to say for the millionth time.

"I don't know how you can handle being in the same room as me right now."

Oh, I wasn't expecting it to be that.

"I can hardly look at myself, I don't know how you can. After how I treated you, all the awful things I said. And then, even after all that, you still tried to protect me from that monster, and I attacked you for it."

"How, how did you figure out I wasn't lying?"

She glances at me, "at prom I asked him if he knew you, lied and said I saw you two hanging out together at the party. He freaked out, started yelling at me. He told me he was just looking for me. Which I knew was a lie because I didn't even know him then. He called me a bitch and stormed off. I'm not sure how the rumor escalated to the truth."

I nod, and she sighs.

"I really am sorry Stiles-" she tries to hug me and I flinch instinctively, guilt washes over her face.

"Sorry, I wasn't thinking. I'm just so sorry Stiles."

"I know." She nods and cumbersomely exits the living room, heading out to her car.

The next day I don't go to school again. I think if it were up to my dad I would just stay at home forever. It was his idea for me to stay home; he even called in some of his sick days just to stay with me.

Allison stops by that evening, a tray of cookies in one hand.

"So," she tells me as I take the cookies from her hand, "I've been a complete bitch to you these past few months. And you deserve better. I'm really sorry, I know these cookies don't make up for anything, but they do have Reeses in them, so at least eat them and don't throw them out in a rage. Also I may or may not have hidden a small dagger under the cookies. Consider it a gift to help protect you if any jackass tries to hurt you ever again." She kisses my cheek and then heads back to her car, never even setting foot in my house.

Well, her apology was definitely the most elaborate.

I dig under the cookies, and sure enough, there's a small dagger with a leather case. It Even has my initials engraved, MGS, which makes me wonder how the hell Allison knows my real name. I have a small hunch Scott is involved.

"What was that?" My dad asks, descending the stairs.

I quickly shove the dagger in my back pocket, "Allison brought over cookies with her apology."

My dad shakes his head, "damn, I wish everyone who owed you an apology brought cookies. We'd be set for life."

"You get one, that's it."

My dad looks appalled, but then laughs.

"So I think I'm gonna go to school tomorrow."

My dad looks uneasy, and I can tell already he's against the idea.

"Are you sure about that? You can stay home as long as you want."

"Thanks, but, there's only 2 weeks after tomorrow anyway. May as well get them over with, I do need to graduate on time. And I want to go back tomorrow so I have 2 days off between my first and second day back."

My dad nods, but his uneasy expression is still there, "Okay, but only if you're 100% sure. If you're worried about falling behind, know you can arrange something."

"No, I'm sure."

"I just want to make sure you're ready."

"Dad, I'll never be ready. But I went to school all semester when people hated me and my rapist was lurking the corners, he's expelled now and at least people know the truth. I think I can handle this. I have to."

My dad gives the back of my neck a quick squeeze and nods; I can tell it's killing him to know what I've been through.

"Dad, it's okay. I-I'm, I'm going to be okay. We'll do it together."

My dad hugs me tight and I hug him back, halfway glad we no longer have secrets holding us apart, halfway upset that he has to deal with what happened to me.

I grab a cookie and head upstairs.

I never fall asleep.

I'm so nervous about going to school, that I almost contemplate calling Scott to see if he'll go with me so I'm not alone. But then I realize that I went alone after the party incident, I can go alone now that everyone knows the reasoning behind it.

When I walk into school, literally every eye is on me, even a few teachers glance my way. I pretend it doesn't faze me, even though I can feel my cheeks heating up, and head to my locker.

"Hey." An unfamiliar voice greets me from the other side of the locker door. I grab my chemistry book and shut my locker, only to be greeted by the boy who smashed my face in a sink.

I raise an eyebrow and he continues.

"Look, um, my sister was raped. If I had known that's what happened to you I would've never picked on you. So sorry."

I blink twice, "well if you really want to set an example following your sisters assault, then maybe you should realize that attacking someone is never the answer."

I turn on my heel and head to first period.

I'm one of the first people there, and to my utter shock; Harris greets me with a sly grin.

"Stilinski, good to have you back."

The rumor of what happened at the party had spread like wildfire. But mostly the truth got around. Andy raped me and I called the cops but then freaked out when they answered. There were some other variations though, like I called them, but then couldn't talk because my throat was too sore from all the forced deep throating, or I called them but then Scott snatched the phone before I could tell them what happened, which is much closer to the truth.

Most people gave me looks of pity, a few of the people that picked on me actually left me apology notes in my locker, a random girl hugged me. Andy's friends tried to threaten me, but then Scott and Isaac practically beat them to a pulp, which gave Scott another tally on the "reasons to forgive him" score.

"Well, Mr. Stilinski, I'm surprised to see you here." Morrell greets me. Was she surprised since I was absent for two days, or surprised because now that the whole school knows I was raped, the reason behind my silence has been miraculously discovered?

I sit in my normal seat, and play with one of my shoelaces.

Morrell doesn't ask any of her stupid questions, Now that the cats out of the bag, I can tell she's waiting for me to speak.

"Since everyone knows why I don't talk, do I really have to be here? Besides I'm much more vocal now, sooo."

She tilts her head, "we never unmasked why you decided to withhold speech for 4 months."

"Maybe you weren't the one to figure it out, but everyone knows now, so these meetings are kind of pointless."

"If you're talking about your altercation with Mr. Evans on Tuesday…or the rumors circulating it, that's not the type of answer we're looking for."

"You can say it, you know."

"Say what?"

"I was raped. Andy raped me. You and I both know that's why I stopped talking."

As soon as I say the word raped, she writes down about a million notes. I guess everyone who's gone through it hates the word.

"Well, that's a good reason, but it's not the type we're looking for. You blame what happened to you as the reason you withheld speech, but why?"

"What do you mean why? He raped me, I-I was afraid to speak after that."

"Yes, but what were you afraid of-" I open my mouth to protest but she continues, "and don't say Andy. Because I doubt he is the direct answer as to why you wouldn't answer a question in Chemistry class."

"I was just afraid in general. I went through a traumatic experience and was afraid after! I don't understand why you can't grasp that! Why you're acting like you understand what happened to me better than I did!"

She doesn't even flinch when I yell at her.

"You were just afraid in general?"

"Yes! I was jumping at shadows, I was afraid to be alone!"

"I think you were afraid to live."

I blanch, "what do you mean, afraid to live? Like what, I was suicidal?"

"Not necessarily. I mean that you shut down, you were afraid to live because you were afraid of getting hurt again. You were afraid to be too happy because you feared it would be ripped from you. I don't think you were just afraid of being attacked again, I believe you were afraid to function."

I don't have a response to that.

When I get home from school, my dad is in his Sherriff's uniform, which surprises me because I didn't know he was going back to work today.

I try my best to hide my disappointment, because I understand he has to work.

"You know I wouldn't go in unless it was an emergency."

"You're a cop, technically everything is an emergency."

My dad laughs, "don't worry, I called someone in to keep you company."

"But dad I-" I was about to tell him I'll just head to Derek's when Derek shyly emerges from the kitchen.

"I'll be home around 11. I left some money on the counter in case you want to order a pizza. Love you."

I smile, "Love you too."

My dad heads out the front door and I turn to Derek with a shy grin, "I can't believe he called you."

Derek shrugs, "I guess he's afraid of leaving you alone, given the circumstances."

"No, it's just I can't believe you're the person he chose to keep me company."

Derek shrugs and I backtrack.

"I'm glad though. Besides, it makes sense, you've kind of been my rock these past few months-" I blush "so thanks, for being there."

"I didn't do anything, you're stronger than you think."

I smile and turn away.

"Want to watch a movie? I'm sure my dad wont mind if we get something on Pay Per View. Ooh, and we have cookies in the fridge."

Derek nods, and I head to the fridge and grab the tray of cookies, two sodas, and the pizza money for later.

We sit on the couch and I get up the pay per view menu.

"Ugh, these are all lame," I tell him, looking at the small selection of films, and he nods in agreement, "have you ever seen The Dark Knight?" I ask, turning to him.

"I saw in in theatres but don't remember it too well."

"You've only seen it once?!"

Derek snorts, "at least I saw in in theatres, you were probably too young to see it when it came out."

I huff jokingly, "I'll have you know, it was PG-13 and I was 13 when it came out. I saw it in theatres twice."

"You would."

"Anyway, it's on Netflix. Want to go upstairs and watch it on my laptop?"

Derek nods and I can tell he doesn't really care either way, which shows he needs to see the movie again and straighten out his priorities.

We head to my room, and I grab my laptop from my desk before I sit on my bed, scotching near the wall. Derek sits next to me, my beds a twin so it's a bit of a squeeze, but we make it work.

For once in my life, I wasn't paying attention while watching a Batman movie. Derek was, I could tell because instead of watching the movie, I was watching him.

I pause it right as the joker infiltrates the police.

"So I talked to Morrell today, and, well she said something…about what happened to me, that really made me think."

"Gave you perspective?"

"Yeah. She, she told me that I wasn't just afraid in general after what Andy did. She said I was afraid to live, afraid to…experience happy things out of fear they would be ripped from me."

"And?"

"And I realized the was right. And I don't want to do that anymore. I-I think I deserve to be happy."

"You deserve a lifetime of happiness, Stiles."

I bite down on my lip and blush.

"You make me happy." I tell him, turning away timidly.

"I do? I-I'm glad."

"I don't want to be afraid to live anymore."

I slowly turn my head and glance at him, before closing my eyes and trying to garner up the courage. Here goes nothing.

"And I just, I just really want to kiss you right now."

Before I can open my eyes to even see Derek's reaction, I feel a pair of soft lips on mine.

The kiss is short, sweet, and gentle. There's no open mouth or tongue. He knows I'm not ready for that, and I'm not sure he is either. Yet it's more passionate than anything I've done before, because it's filled with emotion, filled with unspoken promises.

Derek pulls away and I slowly open my eyes to stare at him.

Neither one of us speaks; we just stare at each other, smiling like idiots. I lean in and press a kiss to his cheek before resting my head on his chest and scooting my body closer to his.

I can't stop smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo did you guys like the end of this chapter?  
> *winks at you like I told you what "tattoo" means*


	16. Epilogue

I plop down next to Derek on the couch, while Isaac sits at the other end, flipping through the channels trying to figure out what to watch.

"Why are you dressed so fancy?" Cora asks, sitting down in the space between Derek and Isaac.

"Oh, um, I had to go to court today."

Cora gives me a confused stare while Isaac's eyes immediately dart to me.

"How'd it go?" he asks.

"You don't have to talk about it." Derek tells me, sensing my discomfort, but I shrug him off.

"Well, it was just the sentencing hearing. He's now a registered sex offender on probation."

"That's it?!" Isaac looks like he might shift any second and I shrug.

"I'm just glad he was found guilty. Frankly, I'm trying to put it all behind me. I've got you guys, my dad, or my support system as my therapist calls it… I think it's just best to I don't know, move past it. I can't forget it happened, but I can't let it control me, ya know?" Isaac nods and Derek squeezes my hand in support, Cora gags.

"Seriously Isaac, I don't understand how you put up with being the third wheel so often."

Derek glares at her, eyes red. I lean over and kiss him on the cheek, while he looks hilarious trying to keep his glare. Cora, Isaac, and I all laugh.

"Eh, they're not that bad." Isaac tells her. And it's true; we really aren't a PDA couple, or a touchy-feely couple in general. We're more of a stay up until 3AM talking about our hopes and fears couple.

"Besides," I tell her, "I've been doing the math and technically everyone is a third or fourth wheel in our little group."

Everyone gives me a confused look, and I know I have to elaborate my amazing logic.

"I'm the fourth wheel because I'm the only human. Cora's the fourth wheel because she's the only girl. Derek's the fourth wheel because he's not a teenager. Isaac and I are the third and fourth wheels when it comes to Cora and Derek being siblings. Cora and Isaac are the third and fourth wheels when it comes to Derek and I dating."

"Stiles, you're just listing things we have in common. Isaac's the only third wheel." Isaac gives Cora a look.

"Technically you're a third wheel too."

"Yeah, but only for a few more weeks. Then I'm back to Argentina where I won't have to deal with-" she waves her hand around our general vicinity "this."

"Which reminds me, are you coming with us?" She asks me.

"Um, what?"

Derek looks down, "I haven't had a chance to ask him yet."

"Ask me what?"

Cora rolls her eyes, "Derek and I were wondering if you want to come with us to South America."

I perked up, "really? When? And for how long?

Derek shrugs, "we're still trying to figure that out. We'll leave in a few weeks, and then we're gonna road trip to Argentina, spend a few days with Cora's other pack, and then she'll stay and you and I will drive back here."

"In other words, you guys will have your own special road trip, so if there's any weird PDA when you're driving me back to Argentina, I can, and will, kick you out of the car."

I laugh, "Well, my art classes at the civic center end on the 3rd, so any time after that I'm good."

Derek nods, "yeah, that should be enough time to get you back before school starts."

I can't contain my smile, the idea of road tripping through South America with Derek and Cora sounded amazing, I was already thinking of places we could visit.

Plus, my dad probably wouldn't mind He was actually pretty supportive of Derek and I (shocker of the century) and would probably agree that a trip could do me well.

Isaac finally settles on some weird Sci-Fi movie from the 80's while Derek and Cora head to the kitchen to grab some sodas.

Isaac smiles at me shyly, "it's good to see you like this."

"Like what?"

"You know, happy, and talking."

"True, I don't understand how you went 4 months without hearing my beautiful voice."

"I mean it's just nice to have you back to your old self."

I tense, my smile slowly fading, and I squirm in my seat.

"I'm not. I'm not back to my old self. I never will be. But that's okay. It's weird, it's like I'm back, but also starting over."

Isaac nods, while Derek and Cora return, sodas in hand.

"Back to the start." I tell him, leaning into Derek's side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who left reviews, kudos, or bookmarked this story!  
> Also thank you Coldplay for the title (if anyone didn't know it's from the song "The Scientist")

**Author's Note:**

> I've decided to upload this to AO3 since it did so well on Fanfiction. So I hope you guys like it. Since I did tag the warnings, their isn't much mystery to what happened, but hopefully that wont hurt the story.


End file.
